The Bloodstone Manor Affair
by PlaguedByPlotBunnies
Summary: *EDITED AND (KINDA SORTA) REWRITTEN* Reaver/Sparrow romance story. If you are offended by the idea of Reaver falling in love please do not read this story. It will be dangerous for your high blood pressure or...whatever.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**__ First off, no, I didn't steal this from FaeTian. I am FaeTian. . . I just wanted to start fresh with a new account._

_I honestly don't really like this story much anymore, but I am going to put it back up because people enjoyed reading it for some reason. I also feel bad because I never finished the last chapter which was probably disappointing to many people. Life caught up with me and my muse for this story died a violent, bloody death. Plus, like I said, I was really starting to dislike it. Pulling off a believable Reaver romance is no walk in the park, let me tell you. And my Sparrow seems to be a bit of a brat. :P BUT, despite all that people read this story and liked it. I am flattered and flabbergasted. _

_ANYWAYS, I am going to be going through each chapter and editing it as best I can without messing up the (horrible) plot. Might change some stuff. I will try to post a chapter a day, but no promises._

_**Disclaimer:**_ I DO NOT OWN REAVER OR THE FABLE FRANCHISE. I AM ONLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS PARTICULAR SPARROW'S PERSONALITY AND HORRIBLE LIFE CHOICES :B

Btw, no harping on me about grammar and whatnot. Just because I am editing it doesn't mean there won't still be mistakes. Also since this story was written years ago I will politely ask for no critique. I would really like to hope I have improved as a writer since then.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy! 3

* * *

**Chapter One**

_Reaver Returns_

* * *

"Ahh, Bloodstone. It has been quite a while hasn't it?" Reaver slowly sauntered his way down the gang plank of his newest ship, _The Reaver II_, and observed his familiar surroundings. "Well it certainly hasn't changed much." He had just returned from Samarkand, a land which he really hoped to return to someday. Despite what Garth had said, it was indeed a place of exotic substances and uninhibited people. At least, that was Reaver's opinion. He was going to miss it.

As he walked briskly towards his lovely 'coastal paradise' the women of Bloodstone swooned at the sight of him. Bloodstone really hadn't changed at all. He approached his mansion and wondered what poor sucker had bought it, for that person was soon to find a bullet through their brain. He _had_ said in his note that he would most likely kill the person who bought his mansion. They couldn't say he didn't warn them.

Once through the gates Reaver took his pistol out of its holster and held it in a ready position. He had done things like this many times; it was no big deal to him. He'd kill the 'owner', then he'd have one of his lackeys take the body and toss it into the sea. He would then reclaim his mansion as his own. It was as simple and easy as that.

Now he was ascending the stairs. The large wooden door was closed and everything seemed very silent. Hmm, perhaps the owner was in town. If that were so he'd just let himself in and kill the them as soon as they returned home. Raising his gloved hand he knocked on the door five times and then stood with his pistol ready to kill. He heard barking inside and the sound of someone trying to quiet the animal. Well, he'd just have to kill the mutt too. The door creaked open and when Reaver saw who stood on the other side, he was frozen on the spot. He had not been expecting to see _her, _of all people, living in his coastal paradise! The woman seemed to be just as surprised as Reaver.

"Reaver?!"

"Why if it isn't, Sparrow!" Reaver said with a charming grin, quickly regaining his composure. "I must say I'm quite-" the door slammed shut in his face, "-surprised to see you. . ." he finished, staring at said door in mild surprise. He placed his pistol back in its holster and knocked on the door again.

"Now now, don't play hard to get, my dear!" he called through the solid wood. "Is that any way to treat an old friend?!"

"Friend? Ha! Get out of here, Reaver. You're the last person I want to deal with right now!" he heard her call out from the other side of the door. She sounded very cross. Reaver smirked to himself. He knew how to handle angry women. Then again, Sparrow wasn't like any woman he had ever dealt with before. She was tricky, but of course, Reaver loved a challenge.

"I do hate raising my voice, Sparrow," he called out, looking up at the sky which was beginning to disappear behind rain clouds. "Can't you open the door so we can talk properly?"

"I do hate _you_, Reaver," Sparrow replied in a mocking tone. "Can't you go away so I can get back to my reading?"

Reaver was now at a bit of a loss. Maybe he should just blast his way in? Or maybe he could use his secret passage. Just as he was about to open his mouth to say what he had in mind Sparrow spoke first, interrupting him. "On second thought, come back tomorrow. I'll be willing to talk to you in the morning."

Reaver smirked smugly. He knew she couldn't resist his charms forever! No woman could. "Well, why I don't spend the night here? We don't have to _talk_ until morning, but I can keep you _preoccupied_ until then," he said in a suggestive tone of voice.

"Oh go sleep in a brothel, you pervert!" was Sparrow's reply.

She turned him down? Well this was Sparrow he was dealing with. He had to keep reminding himself that Sparrow was different from ordinary women. "Perhaps I shall!" he answered her indignantly. "I shall shoot, I mean, _see _you in the morning then, Sparrow. Ta ta for now."

With that said he headed down the steps and towards the nearest whorehouse he could find. He hoped the Bloodstone wenches were as feisty as he remembered.

* * *

Sparrow looked out the window with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Reaver disappear down the sloped road. Her brow was furrowed and a frown was plastered on her face. "So he thinks he can shoot me and claim this house as his own again." she mused to herself. She then smirked and chuckled. "Can't let that happen. I only just managed to get his smell out of this mansion."

Chance, her faithful canine companion, sat beside her and looked up at her, wagging his tail.

Sparrow reached down and gave him a affectionate pat on the head. "We can't let Reaver ruin our little 'coastal paradise' can we?" she said with a smile, her eyes sparkling. "Tomorrow I am going to give him a taste of his own medicine. And believe me, his medicine is the bitter kind."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

_Bitter Medicine_

* * *

The next morning Reaver awoke with the familiar feeling of a naked woman in his arms. He yawned and lazily rolled over, untangling himself from the whore and the bedsheets. He then proceeded to climb over the other two young women who were also sharing the bed with him. As much as he'd like to stay and 'play' with these lovely young ladies some more, he really needed to get over to Bloodstone Manor and reclaim it as his own.

"Hmm..." he murmured to himself as he pulled his pants on. "I think that once the manor is mine again I shall throw a party. Too bad Ursula and Penelope are dead and gone." He smirked and chuckled to himself, pulling his shirt over his head. "A real shame Andrew died too."

The prostates remained sleeping as he finished dressing and left the room, his beloved pistol in its holster. He left the brothel and looked out towards the rising sun in the distance. His eyes then slowly travelled over to rest in the direction of the Wraithmarsh.

Oakvale. . .

Reaver quickly shook his head and looked away, heading down the steps of the brothel and up the street towards Bloodstone Manor. That place. . . It created such strange feelings in him. Feelings that he wanted to go away forever. It was an unfortunate thing of the past; it was best that he didn't dwell on it.

All thoughts of Oakvale vanished from his mind when he passed through the gates of his coastal paradise yet again. He hoped Sparrow was an early riser. He'd hate to have to kill her in her sleep; that would just be no fun at all! It was a real shame such a beautiful woman had to die. Oh well, she wouldn't be the first pretty girl he'd killed.

As he walked up the steps he raised an eyebrow upon seeing someone standing guard at the door this time. The thug looked towards Reaver and a smirk appeared on his rugged face. "Ye're here to see Sparra?" he questioned.

"That I am, my good man," Reaver replied, his hand resting on the hilt of his pistol. "I suggest you let me in to see her. Unless, of course, you wish to die."

The man chuckled. "Go on in. She's in the study."

The door was opened and Reaver entered, looking around at his old home. It really hadn't changed much so far. The carpet and walls looked exactly the same, as did the furniture. There were a couple things that seemed different, but all in all, it looked the same. Reaver kept his gloved hand on the hilt of his pistol as he sauntered up to the closed study door. Without knocking, he entered and raised his eyebrows when his eyes fell upon the scene before him.

Sparrow stood in a strangely familiar pose with a pistol in her hand and one foot up on a stool. A sculptor stood across the room and was currently in the process of sculpting her. That dog of hers was lying by the fire, his eyes trained on Reaver as he entered. Sparrow was the first to speak. "Well hello there!" she said in a familiar, falsely cheery voice, her eyes looking over at him. "Always nice to have company. I don't get many visitors to my little coastal paradise."

"What?" Reaver raised an eyebrow. Was she mocking him? He really wanted to shoot her right in the head at that moment, but his hand didn't move from it's position on the hilt of his pistol.

"I'm terribly sorry, but I don't talk to nobodies. That's what you are: a nobody," Sparrow continued in her mocking tone. "Tell you what, you go on out and kill bandits, or save travellers and gain some renown. Make yourself more popular. I'll only converse with you if you're well-known throughout Bloodstone and all of Albion. Now go on! Scat! Tatty-bye!"

Reaver folded his arms. She _was _mocking him. She was treating him the exact same way he had treated her when they had first met. Well, _almost_ the exact same way.

"Very amusing, my dear. You never cease to make me laugh," he said, pulling his pistol out of it's holster. "Now, give me back the ownership of this manor or I'll shoot a hole in your pretty little cranium."

"Reaver," Sparrow took her foot off the stool and then pointed the pistol she was holding right between his eyes. "Have you forgotten _who _you are dealing with?!"

"Ah yes, I have to keep reminding myself that you're a _hero_," Reaver said, unflinching, his eyes boring into Sparrow's. "But then again, so am I." Reaver quickly raised his right arm, knocking the pistol out of Sparrow's hand. He then rapidly aimed and shot at Sparrow.

"Oh such a shame, Reaver. . . You missed."

That had been too close though. Sparrow had just managed to move out of the way of the bullet in time. A small hole was smoking in the wall behind her, but that could easily be fixed. She really had to be careful. She didn't want to get him too riled up; that could be asking for trouble. She hated to admit it, but he was really good with that pistol of his. She had seen him in action, and just now. She figured she should probably move on to phase two of her plan_. _

Sparrow gave Reaver a charming smile which was quite similar to the smiles he'd give her all the time. "Tell you what, if you run a little errand for me then I'll agree to talk to you about the house's ownership. Okay?"

Reaver looked suspicious. He had asked her to run an errand for him all those years ago, but it had been a trick. He had merely been using her youth to pay for his own _eternal_ youth. Yet somehow she had returned without one single wrinkle. He had been impressed.

"I should probably just kill you now," Reaver said in a bored fashion, but then after a moment's hesitation he put his pistol away. "However, I am not unreasonable, and since you are an old friend of mine, I shall consider doing this errand." He narrowed his eyes. "What exactly is it? I need details, m'dear."

"Nothing hard, I assure you," Sparrow said sweetly. She then pointed over to a bag on the nearby desk. "See that bag of gold? I need it returned to it's rightful owner. I would do it myself but," she smirked, "I'm not on the best of terms with the owner."

"Do you take me for a fool?" Reaver laughed. "I know it's a trick! I do give you credit for trying though, even if it is a pathetic attempt to get back at me." He took a step towards her. "Come now my dear, can't we just let the past go?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Reaver," Sparrow said innocently, pushing a long lock of dark brown hair away from her eyes. "However, if you don't want to deliver the money that's fine." She let out a little sigh of disappointment. "I just figured you'd want to do it since the owner is a gorgeous, rich, and voluptuous blonde. Oh well. . ."

Sparrow could tell by the look on Reaver's face that she had definitely perked his interest with that last comment.

"Now wait a minute, Sparrow," he said, raising a hand. "I never said I _wouldn't_ do it. I will, but you must accompany me."

"Fair enough," Sparrow said, turning to face him and trying to keep a smirk off her face. So with that said, Sparrow handed Reaver the money and then followed him out the door.

* * *

"Why does she live in the middle of nowhere?" Reaver huffed as he followed Sparrow up the steep hill.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask her once we get there," she answered, watching as Chance bounded on ahead, his tail wagging furiously. Soon a medium-sized house came into view up on some level ground. "She lives there," Sparrow said, pointing a finger. She then stepped aside and gestured for Reaver to go ahead of her. "Off you go then."

About fifteen minutes later Reaver left the house with a rather painful-looking black eye and Sparrow was nowhere in sight.

"Stupid idiot," Reaver muttered to himself, kicking a pebble as he marched his way back down the steep hill. "Sparrow, you little bitch, you _forgot _to mention that this woman was married to a tall, muscular, and short-tempered man!"

_She did this on purpose._ That was the last straw. Reaver was through playing Mister Nice Guy. He had no idea why he had spared the girl for so long in the first place. Sparrow was going to get a bullet through her head if it was the last thing he did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_The Secret Passage Plan and the Bathroom Fiasco_

* * *

Sparrow sat down at the table as one of her maids, Marielle, placed a plate with a veggie sandwich down in front of her. Sparrow thanked her and she bowed, leaving her mistress to her meal while the second maid, Lisa, placed a dog dish down in front of Chance, who gave a bark of thanks, and then went straight to eating.

Sparrow's mind was on Reaver as she slowly took a bite of her delicious, mouth-watering sandwich. There was no doubt he was mad at her for tricking him. She wondered what his next course of action would be. Would he try and blast his way in? Maybe he would try to sweet talk her? Knowing Reaver he would probably do both.

With a shake of her head, Sparrow tried to stop thinking about the 'charming' scoundrel. What she really wanted at the moment was a nice hot bath. After she finished her meal and the maids took the dishes away to be washed, she headed up to her luxurious bathroom and began filling the tub with steaming hot water. As the tub slowly filled up with water and suds, the room was filled with the aroma of lavender. She sighed happily to herself as she looked through the nearby cabinet for some kind of soap.

Little did she know that at that very moment, while she began to undress herself, Reaver was making his way through his rear passage, which was a bit difficult since it was in quite a rough shape ever since those bloody Spire guards found it. Thankfully he could get through it with little to no trouble.

As soon as he entered the house all he had to do was find Sparrow and kill her. She wouldn't even know what hit her, for she probably didn't expect him to come this way. Reaver chuckled to himself as he thought about that stubborn and withdrawn girl. He had never once seen her smile at him. She was always glaring, or frowning at him. She was the first woman who was seemingly unaffected by his good looks and charms. He'd love to test her limits. He wanted to see her fall before him; see her vulnerable and weak. . . with no clothes on.

Lost in his fantasies, Reaver almost tripped over a lose beam which brought him back to reality. Running his hand gently along the hilt of his pistol which sat snugly in it's holster, he continued to make his way through the passage, trying to keep his mind focused on his mission.

Finally he could see the stairs that led up to the bookshelf which separated the manor from the passage. With his trademark smirk on his face, he quickly walked up the stairs and then cautiously slid the staircase just enough so that he could slip through into his former study. He quickly looked around the room with his pistol drawn and ready to fire. He found the room empty. As he headed towards the exit he heard the sound of a couple people approaching, so he swiftly moved behind the door and tried to listen to what they were saying.

"Did Lady Sparrow say she needed anything after she's finished her bath?" asked a feminine voice.

"No, she said we could have some time to ourselves now," a different female voice answered.

Reaver didn't need to hear anymore. As the voices faded away he stepped out into the foyer and then headed up the stairs, the bathroom being his destination. Maybe he would get his wish of seeing Sparrow naked after all.

The closer he got to the bathroom the stronger the smell of lavender became. The door to the bathroom was open a crack so he carefully peeked in. Most of Sparrow's body was hidden beneath the water and bath bubbles, but her face and shoulders were still visible. She looked completely relaxed, something Reaver had never really seen before. She was always so tense and uptight whenever he was around.

Hand on his pistol's hilt, Reaver pushed the door open and quickly slipped into the steamy bathroom. Sparrow was looking in the opposite direction so she didn't notice him yet. Perfect. Reaver sauntered up behind her and as soon as Sparrow felt his presence her head whipped around and she stared up at him in complete shock and surprise.

"Well hello, my dear-"

"REAVER! GET OUT!" Sparrow interrupted in a scream, moving so that her whole body, except her head, was under the water.

"Don't be like that. . ." While Reaver spoke he tried to get a look at her through the bubbles. Sparrow noticed.

"I SAID GET OUT!" she screeched again, her face red from steam, anger, and embarrassment.

At that very moment Chance entered the room, growling. Facing Reaver's back, he prepared to leap forward and attack the trespasser. As soon as Sparrow saw what Chance was about to do she let out a yelp. "N-no, Chance, don't-!"

Too late. Chance charged and jumped onto unsuspecting Reaver's back, accidentally knocking him right into the bathtub and right on top of Sparrow. Time seemed to stand still for a moment. Reaver could feel Sparrow's body beneath his hands, and Sparrow could feel Reaver's hands touching her in inappropriate places, and whether by accident or not, it didn't matter.

As soon as Sparrow regained her senses she screamed and tried to push Reaver away. "GET OFF OF ME!"

It was complete chaos. Chance was barking madly, hot water was flying, limbs were flailing, and Sparrow was screaming.

As soon as she managed to push Reaver out of the tub she immediately stood up and grabbed a nearby towel, wrapping it around her body to cover her nakedness.

Reaver, meanwhile, seemed to be still trying to recover from the shock of the situation. One second he had been dry and smug, and the next minute he had been soaking wet, awkward, and on top of Sparrow. He didn't even have time to enjoy the moment before she had started thrashing about and screaming at him. Now she was grabbing him by the wet collar of his shirt and dragging him, half stumbling, out of the bathroom.

"H-hold on a second, Sparrow-"

"Just shut it, Reaver!" Sparrow hissed, her face still as red as a tomato as she dragged him down the stairs.

A trail of hot water was being left behind them, but neither really seemed to care at the moment. Sparrow dragged him until they reached the front door where she harshly pushed him out onto the stone stairs. As Reaver struggled to get up on his feet he heard the sound of the door being slammed behind him.

"Well!" was all he could say once he was on his feet. That didn't really go the way he had planned. He wiped his wet hair away from his face and tried to keep his composure as he slowly walked down the steps. He sat down on the last step and let out a heavy sigh. That little episode had really bruised his ego. Perhaps he should just march right back in there and shoot her once and for all. It was the least he could do for his injured pride. With a firm nod he stood up and reached down for his pistol only to find that it was gone.

"What the-?!" It must have fallen off during that little bathroom fiasco! Or, Sparrow had taken it on purpose. "BLAST IT!"

* * *

An hour after that unfortunate event, Sparrow sat in her bed, reading a good book. Chance lay on the floor by the fire in her room, dozing contently. Although it looked like Sparrow was intently reading the book, her mind was really elsewhere: on Reaver, just like it always had been ever since he had returned from Samarkand.

A deep blush filled Sparrow's cheeks as her mind once again returned to what had happened in the bathtub. She then groaned, placing her book aside and flopping down on the bed. Well, knowing Reaver, he probably wouldn't feel awkward about it, but _she_ would! And that would make her somewhat off-guard. At least she wouldn't have to worry about that gun of his. She smirked and reached under her pillow, grabbing the hilt of Reaver's pistol in her hand as if securing its presence. She realized, however, that she was going to constantly be at war with Reaver until one of them was dead, or until she gave him the manor.

A soft knock then came at the door.

"Come in," Sparrow said with a sigh.

"Begging your pardon, Sparrow," Lisa said as she entered. "I was just wondering if Marielle and I can lock up for the night now."

"Go ahead," Sparrow said with a yawn, stretching and moving beneath the covers.

"I'll take this back downstairs for you," Lisa offered, taking the book Sparrow had been 'reading'. She looked down at the book's title. "The History of Fairfax Castle? Hmm. Did you know that castle is for sale, Sparrow?"

Sparrow raised her eyebrows. "No, I did not know. How much is it going for?"

"1,000,000 gold," Lisa answered with a wince. "Too much for me to buy, but you probably could buy it if you saved up enough. Well, goodnight." And with that said, Lisa left the room and closed the door behind her.

Sparrow looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Fairfax Castle. Now that would be a grand place to live. As she slowly fell asleep an inspired idea entered her tired mind, and if she had been properly awake she would've thought the idea was crazy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_Sharing the Manor_

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this..." Sparrow groaned, clutching her head as though she was experiencing a hangover.

It was the early morning of the next day, and that crazy idea she had thought up last night had still been there when she had awakened. She had lain in bed for at least an hour, thinking about that idea over and over again. The more she thought about it, the more sensible it seemed even though she still didn't like it.

"Damn it all..." she muttered, looking down at her breakfast with disinterest. This idea would get Reaver off her back. Well, sort of.

"Not hungry today, Sparrow?"

Sparrow sighed and didn't look back at Marielle as she approached from behind. "No...not really," she answered.

"Would you like me to save it for you then?" Marielle questioned, pushing a strand of long hair behind her ear as she bent forward to take the plate of eggs and toast.

"Sure..." Sparrow replied, not really listening. Oh, damn that Reaver! Why did he have to return from Samarkand? He was making her life a mess! With a heavy sigh she stood up. "Marielle?"

"Yes, Sparrow?" Marielle raised her eyebrows, stopping halfway through the door to the kitchen and looking back at Sparrow questioningly.

"I'm going out to town," she said, heading towards the foyer, "and I'm taking Chance. I don't know when we'll be back, but we might return with a certain someone."

"You mean Reaver?" Marielle asked, trying to keep the hopefulness out of her voice.

Sparrow stopped in her tracks and licked her dry lips as she considered her idea once more, making sure that she really wanted to do this. After a few moments of silence she answered. "Yes. Reaver." Her voice was impassive. "Get the spare room ready for him will you?" With that said, Sparrow grabbed her jacket and left the manor, Chance bounding out happily after her.

* * *

Foul smells, prostitutes of both genders hitting on you whenever possible, dirty sailors, and loud-mouthed pirates. Why would anyone want to live in Bloodstone?

That had been the question Sparrow had asked herself the first time she had arrived in the criminal-infested port. The only decent place to live was in the Bloodstone Manor, which is why she bought it. But why did she want to live in Bloodstone in the first place?

Sparrow inhaled the salty sea air when she reached the docks, her loose dark brown hair blowing gently around her face. Because the other parts of Albion reminded her of those she missed: Rose, Hammer, Garth, and even Theresa. The only thing Bloodstone reminded her of was that she was pretty well off compared to some people. Well, that, and Reaver. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Now he was the person she _didn't _miss, yet he was the person who returned and had to come into her life again. Typical. Well, no matter, in a few months he would soon be out of her life again. Now, where was that damn man?

Sparrow had searched every brothel and pub in Bloodstone and he was still nowhere to be found. Not even Chance's expert nose could scent him out. The only place left to search was the waterfront. Maybe he was on his ship.

The sun was almost fully risen now, shining out over Bloodstone in all its majesty. Ships were in the midst of being prepared for sailing, their sails being unfurled and their decks being swabbed. It was a truly beautiful day. If only Sparrow could enjoy it.

"Wanna dip in the best pot of honey in town?" came the slick voice of a female prostitute from behind.

Sparrow gritted her teeth and then turned around to give the woman a death glare. "I thought I already told you NO!" she huffed angrily. She had a short temper, and the fact that she wasn't in exactly the best of moods made it worse. "Now leave me alone! I'm trying to look for Reaver!"

"Reaver? Oh my!" The prostitute began fanning herself and looked as though she might swoon at any moment. "What a man!"

"Oh, quit it with the dramatics! He's not that great! He's a pain!" Sparrow laughed dryly, folding her arms.

"How do you know?" The woman placed her hands on her shapely hips. "Have you ever slept with him? I'm tellin' you, lassie, he's got talent."

"Well, he has had loads of time for practice," Sparrow snorted, rolling her eyes.

"He can have me whenever he wants," the prostitute said dreamily.

"I am sure he appreciates that," Sparrow said in a patronizing fashion, turning away to get back to her 'Reaver searching'. Her eyes scanned the docks but she still couldn't see him anywhere.

"What's the matter? Jealous that he's slept with me, but not you?" the prostitute taunted, folding her arms.

"Jealous?" Sparrow slowly turned around and gave the woman a mocking smile. "Of what? There is nothing to be jealous of! In fact, I'm proud that I'm one of the only women in this whole world that he hasn't touched!"

"Well, we'll see how long that lasts, won't we?" the whore sneered.

"Now, now, ladies, don't argue! There is plenty of Reaver to go around!" The sound of his obnoxious voice from behind made Sparrow wince. How much of the conversation had he heard?

The prostitute meanwhile fanned herself again and smiled charmingly over Sparrow's shoulder at the handsome pirate. "Ooh, Reaver! Just the sight of you is making me all achy," she said in seductive tone of voice.

"Funny," Sparrow muttered through clenched teeth, "I was about to say the same thing, except it's my _stomach_ that's aching." She then suddenly felt a firm hand on her shoulder and then hot breath at the ear opposite of that shoulder. She stiffened and frowned, looking at the suave scoundrel out of the corner of her eye. What was he up to?

"You have something that belongs to me," Reaver whispered into her ear, his lips mere inches away. "I want it back, my dear."

Ah, his pistol. "Get off of me," she growled, pulling away from his hand and mouth. She turned around to face him, folding her arms. "I've been looking everywhere for you! Where the hell were you?!"

"Why, I was spending the night at Mrs. Harriet Easton's house," Reaver said simply. "She always gets so lonely whenever her husband is away on business."

"You slept with a married-! Eh, never mind." Sparrow shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh. She really shouldn't be surprised, this was_ Reaver _she was dealing with. "Look Reaver-" Sparrow was cut off when she saw Reaver was no longer standing in front of her, but had now moved over so that he was in front of the prostitute who was still present.

"Now I believe you had an aching problem..." he said suggestively to the girl who nearly swooned.

"Hey!" Sparrow protested.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Reaver said apologetically to Sparrow, turning to her. "Would you mind a threesome?"

"What? No! I mean yes!" Sparrow flushed and let out a growl. "Now just hold on! I'm not interested in _that_. I need to talk to you about the manor! Don't forget, I still have your beloved pistol."

"Ahh, yes, that you do," Reaver said, fully facing her again while the prostitute gave Sparrow a glare. "Fine, we can talk. However, I will most likely kill you once we're finished."

"We'll see about that," Sparrow muttered, grabbing Reaver's forearm. "Come on."

* * *

"Have any wine?" Reaver questioned when the two of them entered the study room in Bloodstone Manor.

"Yes, but you're not getting any," Sparrow replied, standing over by the mantle and mentally preparing herself for his reaction when she told him of her idea.

"Well, you're certainly a spoil sport aren't you?" Reaver said, crossing his arms and sizing the brunette up. "I refuse to talk unless I have a goblet of wine in my hand."

"_Fine_," Sparrow said in an exasperated tone. "Marielle!"

Marielle immediately entered as soon as she was called, as if she had been waiting by the door just in case Sparrow needed her assistance.

"Yes, Sparrow?" she asked, her eyes continually roaming over to Reaver who tossed her a wink and a charming smile.

Sparrow frowned upon seeing her maid blush at the pirate. "Can you bring up some wine please?"

"Yes, madam," Marielle answered almost absentmindedly, reluctantly tearing her eyes away from Reaver as she left the room.

_For heaven's sake. _Sparrow thought to herself. _Is every woman in this world taken by him but me?_

"What a pretty maid you have," Reaver commented, his eyes still looking in the direction where Marielle had disappeared. "I really wouldn't mind having a go with her."

"Forget it, Reaver!" Sparrow said sharply. "Honestly, is sex all you can think about?"

"Of course not!" Reaver said indignantly. "I think about alcohol and gold just as much as I think about sex!"

"Oh, big improvements," Sparrow said sarcastically. She was starting to rethink her idea. She couldn't stand living with him for five minutes, let alone a few months!

Marielle then reentered the room with a bottle of wine and two goblets on a tray. She placed the tray on the table and turned to Sparrow and Reaver. "Is there anything else I can get for you?" she asked.

"That will be all, Marielle. Thanks," Sparrow answered, going over to the wine and pouring a little into both the goblets. Marielle gave a small bow and once again blushed when Reaver gave her another one of his 'melt-at-the-knees' smiles. She then left the room, hoping that Reaver would agree to Sparrow's idea.

"Here's your wine," Sparrow said, holding out one of the goblets to Reaver. "Happy now?"

"Quite. Thank you, my dear," he said, taking the goblet from her. Then he quickly grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and gave it a light kiss on the knuckles.

Sparrow's mouth fell slightly open in shock, and a little colour flooded her cheeks, her hand frozen in mid-air. However she quickly regained her composure, clearing her throat and wiping the back of her hand off on her skirt, a frown once again on her face.

"Do you ever smile?" Reaver asked suddenly, taking a seat in the chair by the fireplace.

"Of course I do!" Sparrow scoffed.

"I think you take life too seriously," Reaver said matter-of-factly, which made her scoff again. "You need to loosen up a bit! Tell you what, if you give me my manor back, I shall throw a party and make you the guest of honour. How's that sound, hmm?"

"That's what I need to talk to you about," Sparrow said, the idea once again back in her train of thought. "The manor."

"Yes?" Reaver took a sip of his wine, raising an eyebrow. Was she actually going to give it back to him?

"I'm saving up my gold to buy Fairfax Castle in Bowerstone," Sparrow started, taking a deep breath. "I'll give you your manor, and your pistol, back on two conditions: One, you let me live here until I can buy the castle, and two, you don't try to kill me. Got it?"

Reaver licked his lips slowly and considered what she had just offered. It really wasn't a bad deal. He'd get his manor back and he'd only have that she-devil around for two or three months. Who knows? Maybe he could get her into bed with him at some point. Hmm, yes, it had been many years since he had met such a challenging girl, and challenging girls were always the best to seduce.

"My dear Sparrow," Reaver said, taking a long sip of his wine as he quickly mulled the idea over in his head once again. "I accept your proposal."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

_Reaver Throws a Party_

* * *

Reaver sat in his study one evening, a thoughtful expression on his handsome face as he watched the dancing flames in the fireplace. His left arm rested on the mantle in a casual, relaxed way as he considered all that had happened on his first day living in the same house with that she-devil by the name of Sparrow.

Truth to be told, she wasn't much trouble. Maybe that was because she was either in her room with the door closed, or out in town doing odd jobs to get more gold. She didn't even want to dine with him at luncheon or supper time. What an amazingly odd woman she was. Did she really hate him _that_ much? Not that it matter to him, for she was but _one_ out of _many_ women. Yet why did it hurt his pride whenever Sparrow glared at him with her hate-filled eyes?

_Really, I'm not that bad, _he thought to himself, furrowing his brow for a moment. Then he remembered five years ago when he had first met her, how he had betrayed her two times. First, he had sent her to the shadow court to exchange her youth and beauty in order to obtain his. However, she had come back looking as young as ever. She was a tricky thing. Second, he had sold her out to Lucien. Oh, she had been extremely ticked off about that. As things turned out, Lucien had betrayed him as he was trying to betray Sparrow (the nerve of him) so, he had ended up joining forces with her temporarily.

Reaver bit on his lower lip as he tried to remember what had happened between them after that.

He had talked to her as they fought off Spire guards, telling her about the time Penelope had set his house on fire, and bragging about his pistol. She had remained quiet the whole time, hardly even passing him a glance. Why was it that he could figure out every woman in the world but her? Her whole body language had said that she wanted nothing to do with him as they had made their way through the rear passage. Even after they had escaped she treated him like the plague. Oddly enough, she reminded him of a certain someone. . .

Reaver inhaled sharply as a memory came up to the surface of his mind from the very depths of his thoughts. She reminded him of _her._

At that very moment Sparrow was in her room, cross-legged on her bed, thinking about him. She had been avoiding him as much as possible, not wanting to deal with him and his promiscuous ways. She was even tempted to sleep down in the study so that there would be less of a chance that she'd. . . _hear _him, or anyone else, doing. . . _stuff_ in his bedroom at night. He truly was the last man in the world she ever wanted to get involved with. Yet, fate seemed to have placed him in her path again.

_What did I do to deserve this? _Sparrow thought to herself with a sigh as she pulled her shirt off, wanting to get nice and comfortable in her nightshirt. However, before she put it on, she looked at the scars on her body which came to a grand total of four, and they all came from the same man.

Sparrow shuddered at the memory of the ten years she had spent in the Spire. The Commandant had been the one, the one who had given her all her scars. He had lusted after her shamelessly, the only thing attracting him to her was her so-called beauty. Sparrow could never have given herself up to such a monster for such a shallow reason. So since she constantly refused him, he had tortured her and almost forced himself on her several times. The only thing that kept him from raping her had been fear of Lucien. Lucien always knew what was going on in the Spire, and he knew that rape was not something he tolerated. Sparrow found herself trembling from the horrible memories and a single tear escaped her eyes.

With a determined sniff she quickly changed into her nightshirt. She mustn't dwell on such things as the Spire or the Commandant. She had to keep herself focussed on the present, and the future.

She didn't get much sleep that night, for the Commandant haunted her dreams. And on top of that, Reaver and his 'guests' were being much too loud. Between the loud carnal ruckus and the constant nightmares Sparrow could tell that come morning she was going to be in a very bad mood.

* * *

Turns out she was right in her assumption, and what Reaver announced that morning only made her mood even worse.

"You're going to _what_?!" Sparrow stood up from the breakfast table with a look of disbelief and horror on her face. "You can't!"

"Excuse me, my dear, but I believe this is my house, is it not?" Reaver said with a smug smirk, cutting into his fried egg and popping a piece into his mouth.

"Yes. . ." Sparrow admitted through clenched teeth.

"And you said I could have it back on two conditions: one, I let you live here, and two, I don't kill you. Correct?"

"Yes. . ." Sparrow admitted again, clenching her fists as well.

"So since this is _my _house, and since by making this decision I am not breaking either of your two conditions, you really have no say in the matter," Reaver concluded with a 'holier-then-thou' air about him as he took a drink from his goblet.

Sparrow slowly sat down in her seat again, staring down at her breakfast blankly. He did have a point. Reaver looked up at her at the end of the table, chewing thoughtfully and waiting for her to speak.

"Well. . ." she started, letting out a heavy sigh. Then after a moment or two she looked up at him with a glare and snapped, "Okay! Okay! FINE. Throw a stupid party!"

Reaver smirked yet again and continued with eating his meal. With Sparrow around he was never left wanting entertainment.

* * *

"Marielle and Lisa are your guests of honour?" Sparrow raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. "The maids?"

"But of course," Reaver said, looking at his reflection in a full-length mirror as he adjusted his ritzy outfit. "I want to get to know them better."

"If sleeping with them is your definition of 'getting to know them better' then I'm afraid you won't get to know Lisa at all. She almost hates you as much as I do," Sparrow snorted, looking disgruntled.

"That will all change at the party," Reaver said with a dismissing wave of his hand. "What time is it?"

Sparrow shrugged and looked out the window. "Eh, sunset."

"The guests will be arriving soon then," Reaver said, turning away from the mirror and striding across the room. "And since I am the host, I must greet them." He looked back at Sparrow for a moment and looked her up and down. "You're not wearing_ that_ to the party are you?"

Sparrow scoffed. "I'm not _going_ to the party." She then self-consciously looked down at her outfit. She wore a black skirt and a simple sleeveless blouse that was also black with gold trim. "Why? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"It's just not fancy enough for my party, dearest," Reaver said simply.

"Well, like I said, I'm not going to your party," Sparrow said stubbornly, folding her arms like a pouting child.

"Suit yourself," Reaver said, promptly turning and leaving the room. A few seconds after he left, Lisa rushed in looking flustered.

"Sparrow! You've got to come to the party!" she pleaded. "Don't throw me to the wolves!"

"Relax, Lisa, you'll be fine," Sparrow said, offering the maid a somewhat reassuring smile.

"Please! I'm begging you to come!" Lisa said, clasping her hands together. "And I'm not one who begs often, let me tell you! I need some sort of sane company!"

"What about Marielle?"

"She's fawning all over Reaver!" Lisa snorted. "There's no way she'll be of any comfort to me."

Sparrow sighed heavily and placed her hands on her hips, her gaze on the floor. Should she join the party just so that Lisa had some female companion that wasn't drooling over Reaver? She groaned inwardly. Why did she have to be such a nice person?

"Alright, Lisa. I'll come to the party so that you can keep your sanity," Sparrow said finally, looking up at Lisa's now relieved face.

"Oh thank you!" she said with a grin. "You might want to get all dressed up quickly. The party is going to start any minute. I think guests have already started to arrive."

Sparrow nodded, although she was dreading the whole night.

* * *

She really didn't have much to wear, considering most of her wardrobe consisted of gypsy outfits. The most fancy outfit she could find was her gypsy dancer outfit. It was a two piece outfit consisting of a black tight top that revealed her navel and a long red skirt with a darker red sash. Oh well, it would have to do. She quickly changed and then brushed her long dark brown hair so that it cascaded around her bare shoulders.

"Sparrow? Are you ready?" Lisa's voice asked from the other side of the door. Sparrow let out a sigh and went over to the door, opening it.

"Yes, I'm ready physically, but I'm not so sure about mentally," she answered with a dry laugh.

"Wow, you look so pretty!" Lisa said with a smile. "I love your outfit!"

"Oh, well, thanks," Sparrow smiled. "It's just an old gypsy dancer outfit of mine. I haven't worn it for a long time. I'm surprised it still fits me."

"I think you're going to be the belle of the ball!" Lisa grinned. Sparrow could feel a little heat in her cheeks due to embarrassment. She knew she was pretty, only a fool would think otherwise, but she still found herself embarrassed about it.

"Okay, enough compliments, let's go," she grumbled, pushing past Lisa and just wanting to get the whole night over with.

The sound of chatting people became louder as Sparrow and Lisa made their way down the stairs. Sparrow almost chickened out when she saw the huge crowd in the foyer. Chance followed behind her silently, his hackles slightly raised when he saw the huge crowd. He needed to protect his Sparrow, no matter what. Sparrow placed a hand by Chance's collar as a reassurance, and as a comfort. The two girls carefully mingled with the crowd, carefully pushing their way through it.

"This party sucks," Lisa grumbled. "There are too many people and too little space to move around. I don't even know where Reaver is!"

"He's by the fireplace," Sparrow said, shooting a glare at a nearby man who had been checking her out. "So let's stay away from there."

"I'm afraid that's going to be hard for me to do since I'm one of the guests of honour," Lisa grumbled, hoping the Reaver wouldn't spot her in the crowd.

"Are you Miss Lisa?" a young man suddenly asked Lisa, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder.

"Er, yes. . ." Lisa said, glancing at the man's hand but not trying to pull away.

"Found her!" the man suddenly yelled across the room to Reaver, making both Lisa and Sparrow wince.

"Excellent, Richard!" came Reaver's charming voice from over by the mantle. "Bring her here will you?"

"Save me!" Lisa squeaked as the man grabbed her and began pulling her through the chatting mob. Sparrow, knowing that she couldn't abandon her friend, followed after them very reluctantly. She didn't want to deal with Reaver commenting on how silly she looked. She could already hear his smug remarks, which made her groan inwardly. However, she got a totally different reception then what she'd been expecting.

Reaver was standing by the mantle with a girl in each arm, Marielle being one of them. He smiled charmingly upon seeing Lisa dragged before him, not yet noticing Sparrow who stood off to the side awkwardly.

"Ah, there you are Miss Lisa! I was wondering when you were going to show up," Reaver said cheerfully. His eyes then made their way over to Sparrow, much to her horror, and rested upon her for a moment in surprise. He looked her up and down appreciatively which made Sparrow fold her arms and, to her chagrin, she blushed a deep shade of crimson.

"Glad to see you changed your mind and decided to join the party, my dear," Reaver said once he was finished looking her over. He then added with a smirk, "red suits you."

Sparrow had a feeling that he wasn't referring to her skirt with that remark, but her blush, which only made her feel even more embarrassed and mad.

"Yeah yeah, now quit staring at me," Sparrow huffed.

"Touchy, aren't we?" Reaver chuckled, seemingly having totally forgotten about the two girls whom he had in his arms. "You really are too uptight, Sparrow. You need to loosen up. Tell you what, why don't you and I go up to my bedroom by ourselves and-"

"No!" Sparrow interrupted as soon as she realized where he was going with that idea. The nearby women looked at Sparrow as though she were crazy.

"Your loss," Reaver replied, trying to appear indifferent, even though he felt a little stung by her refusal.

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing," Sparrow sneered.

"You know, this reminds me of the first time we met," Reaver mused with a smirk. "Although you were much more agreeable back then."

"I didn't know you yet," Sparrow grumbled, wincing as she remembered flirting with him that day. She had really thought he was quite something until he called her a nobody, and then betrayed her two times, and then proceeded to be an obnoxious, egotistical, greedy jerk.

"I do recall that conversation quite well, actually," Reaver said with that irksome smirk still on his face. Oh how Sparrow wanted to smack it off right at that moment. She knew he was enjoying making her uncomfortable. "I believe after I made my little suggestive remark you had said something along the lines of-"

"No! don't say it!" Sparrow suddenly moved forward on impulse and quickly slapped a hand over Reaver's mouth to prevent him from telling the whole room what she had said to him. However, as soon as Sparrow realized the awkwardness of the situation she removed her hand and looked down at her feet as a dark red blush once again crawled up into her cheeks.

Reaver, who had been surprised at her sudden action, quickly regained his composure and took a step forward so that he was right in front of Sparrow, that smirk once again on his face. He removed his arms from around the two women, much to their disappointment.

Sparrow was refusing to look at him. She was just feeling so flustered for some reason. Reaver's hand then came up and cupped her chin, lifting her face to his. Now, if it were under any normal circumstances, Sparrow would've glared at him and slapped his hand away quickly, but she really wasn't feeling like herself at that moment.

"You act as though you hate me," Reaver whispered, "but your blushing is telling me differently, my dear."

Sparrow's blue orbs stared into Reaver's deep green as if entranced. However, as soon as Reaver's lips began moving towards hers she snapped out of it and violently pushed him away and snapped, "Don't!"

Reaver looked surprised yet again as he stumbled back a few steps before regaining his balance. Silence seemed to hang around the room like a thick fog, and to Sparrow the silence was awkward. With her trademark glare on her face, she turned on her heel and pushed her way through the crowd until she was out of sight.

"Sparrow! Wait!" Lisa called, going after her.

Slowly, conversation began to float through the room again as if that whole incident had never happened. Reaver, meanwhile, regained his composure and his charming smile was once again back on his face as he turned to entertain his lady guests.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

_Breakdown_

* * *

The next morning Sparrow awoke with a yawn and stretched her tired limbs. The feel of naked flesh on either side of her made her suddenly freeze. She wasn't the only person in her room anymore.

Suddenly wide awake, Sparrow sat up and her jaw fell open. She was sharing her bed with several people, men and women, and they were all naked. At first all Sparrow could do was sit there in shock, grabbing the hem of her nightshirt tightly in her fists as if afraid it would come flying off and leave her naked as well.

As soon as her senses returned she stood up and ran from the room, screaming, and followed by Chance. However she didn't get far before bumping into a shirtless Reaver. She stumbled back a few steps. When she saw it was him she let out a frustrated noise and pushed passed him before he could say anything, just wanting to get away from it all.

Reaver watched her go with a look of amusement on his face. He knew she would freak out when she saw his guests sleeping in her room, but what was he to do? There had been hardly any room left in his own bedroom, so he had to let the rest of them into Sparrow's room. Ah well, she'd get over it.

* * *

Not caring that she was still in her nightshirt, Sparrow ran down the streets of Bloodstone, her tousled brown hair flying behind her. It was still rather early in the morning. Merchants were busy preparing their stores for business so they hardly even glanced at Sparrow as she went running by.

As soon as she reached the docks she realized how ridiculous she must look, standing there in her nightshirt, her cheeks flushed from her sudden sprint, and her hair a mess. It took all of her self control that very moment to keep herself from crying.

"Keep it together, Sparrow," she muttered to herself, leaning against the stone wall and placing her head in her hands. She had to calm herself down, collect her thoughts, and figure out a painful way to kill Reaver. Why must he be the way he is? Had he always been that way his whole life?!

_No. . . he hadn't. _She remembered, her tired eyes looking up at the horizon. She had read his diary; she knew he had been different once. She then began to wonder whether or not she would've liked this 'other side of Reaver' so to speak.

_Stop thinking about him! It doesn't matter! _Sparrow mentally scolded herself, giving her head a shake. _He's not worth my time or thoughts._

She looked back up the hill in the direction of the manor. Should she head back? She was getting a little chill from standing around in nothing but a nightshirt, not to mention people were starting to roam the streets and were giving her funny looks. No. She didn't want to go back, not after what had just happened. The guests would probably still be there and her returning would just make things extremely awkward.

So, trying to gather up her dignity, Sparrow headed towards the tavern with faithful Chance following. She could stay there until she felt ready to return to the manor.

* * *

Reaver, for the tenth time that day, looked out the window of his bedroom looking for any sign of Sparrow approaching. But like the other nine times, he didn't see her. He frowned slightly and turned away from the window, marching across the room and heading down the hall. He was sure she would've returned by now, it was nearly noon after all, and his guests had all left a few hours ago.

Now, it wasn't that he _cared _whether she returned or not, and as a matter of fact he would be quite glad if she never returned. There were many things he was good at doing, and sharing wasn't one of them. However, there was a part of him that seemed to enjoy having her around. He liked to banter with her. It was so amusing to see her face turn red due to anger, or even better, embarrassment. And on top of that, she was one of the most attractive women he had ever seen. She looked sexy when mad, adorable when awkward, and gorgeous when smiling, though he has hardly seen her smile. It was undeniable that Reaver was very much attracted to her, and he wasn't going to deny it anyway. He was attracted to many women, but all those women were attracted to him as well. Sparrow wasn't attracted to him. She was different. Sure, she may find him handsome, but other then that he wasn't attractive to her in the very least.

Would she have been attracted to Aaron? The thought suddenly came to mind, and it made him stop in his tracks for a moment. _She _had been attracted to Aaron, and _she _was very much like Sparrow. _She_ had been a challenge as well.

Reaver continued on his way to his study where he sat down in his chair by the fire, watching the dying flames. He could still hear the poor people of Oakvale screaming; he still could feel the heavy guilt of what he had done pressing down on his breaking heart. No, that wasn't him. It was Aaron.

Reaver was awakened from his reverie by the sound of a dog bark. Ahh, she had returned.

Without looking back he called out, "You might want to get changed before you catch a cold, Sparrow."

Sparrow, who had been trying to sneak upstairs without being noticed by him, winced when she heard him call out. With a huff she continued up the stairs at a quick pace, eager to get into some decent clothes.

Reaver chuckled to himself, reaching over his side table to pour himself a goblet of wine. He saw Chance approach out of corner of his eye and sit down beside him, tail wagging. Reaver looked at the dog with raised eyebrows as he took a sip from his goblet.

After a moment of silence Reaver spoke, "Do you suppose she'd like me better if I acted like you, dog? You do seem to be the only one she smiles at." Reaver almost laughed out loud, thinking of how ridiculous he would look on all fours. "I'm afraid my dignity wouldn't allow me to behave in such a way. No offence of course."

Chance just looked at Reaver with his tongue hanging out of his mouth and his ears perked. His tail continued to wag slowly.

"I take it she hasn't had much male contact has she?" Reaver continued with his one-sided conversation. "Poor girl," he tsked.

Chance cocked his head to the side.

"Forgive me. I meant male _human _contact."

Chance continued with his panting and tail wagging.

"You know, I would've loved to have a threesome with her, Penelope, and Ursula," he mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Or maybe a foursome with another male. Andrew, perhaps."

Chance let out a snort.

"You're right," Reaver nodded seriously. "She wouldn't be ready for a foursome right away. I'd have to _teach _her first." He picked up his wine and took a sip. He then grabbed the bottle and inclined his head towards it, fixing Chance with a questioning look. "Wine?"

Chance cocked his head again.

"Suit yourself." Reaver placed the bottle down and took another sip from his goblet. "Not a very talkative fellow are you?"

Chance continued to stare at him with his big brown eyes.

"Well you're a nice counterbalance to Miss Spitfire Sparrow," Reaver said, crossing one leg over the other. "Most of my conversations with her involve yelling. On _her_ part anyway."

"Male bonding time?"

The sound of Sparrow's voice made Reaver turn to see her approaching with an unreadable expression on her face. Was she amused?

"Well, I wouldn't really call this male bonding," Reaver said, a smirk crawling across his handsome features. "My definition of male bonding-"

"I don't want to know! Sorry I brought it up!" Sparrow said quickly, raising her hands. The amusement was gone, now replaced by annoyance and disgust.

Reaver chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. He loved getting a rise out of her. "So, where have you been all morning?"

"At the tavern," Sparrow answered, crossing her arms. "And it's your fault!"

"Have I been a bad influence?"

Sparrow scoffed. "No, that's not what I meant. It was your fault because you let those naked people sleep in my room!"

"I thought you could use a little excitement in your life," Reaver said innocently. "Besides, my room was full."

"That was too much excitement!" Sparrow hissed, wanting to smack the smirk of his face.

"Very well. Next time I'll only let two people in your room."

"No! The next time I'm going to lock my door and throw away the spare key so you can't get in!" Sparrow huffed, feeling mad about the incident all over again.

"Calm yourself down," Reaver said, unable to wipe the smirk from his face. "You're getting yourself all worked up over nothing."

"Nothing?!" Sparrow grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here, Reaver! I am a woman. And a woman needs privacy, especially at night when she's sleeping! It's a traumatic thing for her to be afraid to sleep because a certain bastard might let naked people in to share her room at night!"

Reaver licked his lips, aware of how close her face was to his. "I'll let you share a room with me," he whispered sensually. "No one else will be there. Just you and me."

Sparrow's face turned even redder as she let go of his collar and took a few steps away from him. "Never," she said in a low voice, trying to regain her angry composure. She then turned and quickly left the room before things could get any more awkward.

* * *

At the end of the day Sparrow stood on the balcony of her bedroom, her damp hair and bathrobe blowing in the wind. She had just finished having a bath (Reaver had gone off into town so she didn't need to worry about him sneaking in), and now she was enjoying a beautiful sunset. It was times like these that she wished she had someone to share the beautiful sunsets with. She closed her eyes and imagined a pair of strong masculine arms wrapping around her from behind. Feeling lonely was something Sparrow experienced every night it seemed. She wondered what it was like to truly love a man and have him love her back in return. Was there really somebody out there for her?

Sighing heavily, Sparrow was about to turn to head back into her room when she saw Reaver approaching the manor with somebody else. Upon looking closer Sparrow could see it was another man. At first she didn't really care until she saw the man run his hand along Reaver's torso suggestively.

"No!" Sparrow yelled angrily. "No! No! No! No! No!" she continued yelling as she ran from her bedroom and down the stairs. When she got to the front door she could see Reaver and the man had entered the house, though both looked confused as to her constant yelling of 'no'.

"No! Back off!" Sparrow yelled at the young man as she approached, her blue eyes flashing dangerously. The man looked worriedly from Sparrow to Reaver. Reaver meanwhile opened his mouth to protest, but Sparrow cut him off. "Shut it, Reaver! I'll handle this!" She pushed the young man roughly out of the house and then closed the door in his face. "And stay out! Forever!" she yelled through the door. "Or else I'll put a bounty on your head so high every bounty hunter in Albion will be after you!" She peeked out the window and saw the young man practically sprinting away from the manor.

Reaver watched the whole scene in a bit of shock. Sparrow was full of surprises and not to mention crazy mood swings!

Sparrow then turned around to face Reaver, pointing an accusing finger at him. "And as for you-!" She looked as though she was looking for something really crushing to say, but ended up shouting, "Go to your room!"

"Excuse me?" Reaver raised an eyebrow.

"I said go to your room! _NOW_, MISTER!" Sparrow growled, a look of fury on her face.

"Now calm yourself down, my dear-"

No! I won't calm down! I have a right to be angry! I have been living with you for a mere three days and you're already driving me up the wall! I can't take it! I should never have given you this house back until I was prepared to move into Fairfax Castle! You are so selfish, egotistical, and disgusting! All you think about is sex, money, and alcohol! Open your eyes! Can't you see the monster you've become!? How can you live with yourself!? You killed everyone in Oakvale just so you could have eternal youth! Your family, your friends, and your lover are all _dead_ because of you! And now here you are, living your life as you please as if celebrating the deaths of all those innocent people! You're a disgusting monster hiding behind a handsome mask! Well _I_ won't be fooled! I wouldn't so much as _touch_ you if you were the last _thing _on the face of this planet!" Sparrow stopped for a moment in her rant to catch her breath, angry tears glistening on her cheeks.

Lisa and Marielle had heard her yelling and were now watching the spectacle from the hallway, their mouths' open in shock. Reaver, meanwhile, had an unreadable expression on his face. He stood there stiffly, looking at Sparrow blankly and with disinterest. It was as if her words had just went in one ear and out the other.

Sparrow took a shaky breath and then said in a calmer voice, "I'm going to bed." She then headed off, leaving Reaver standing there. And a full hour passed before he moved from that spot.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

_I Am Not He. . . I Am Reaver_

* * *

_"You are so selfish, egotistical, and disgusting! All you think about is sex, money, and alcohol! Open your eyes! Can't you see the monster you've become!? How can you live with yourself!? You killed everyone in Oakvale just so you could have eternal youth! Your family, your friends, and your lover are all dead because of you! And now here you are, living your life as you please as if celebrating the deaths of all those innocent people! You're a disgusting monster hiding behind a handsome mask! Well I won't be fooled! I wouldn't so much as touch you if you were the last thing on the face of this planet!"_

Reaver hardly got any sleep that night; the harsh and cold words of Sparrow were still fresh in his mind, repeating over and over again like a broken record. Her words had stung, like a sharp blade piercing his heart. Not only had they stung, they had brought up feelings he had been keeping buried inside of him for the past 300 years.

He now sat in his study, his eyes staring dully at the flames, and a goblet in his hand that was still more then half full of wine. His mind felt foggy and his heart felt heavy. Blurry images of his family and friends flashed through his mind. Oh how he had wept when he realized what he had done. But that was years ago. That was Aaron's fault. What a weak creature he had been.

Reaver's eyes slowly broke away from the fire and over to the pistol by his side. If Sparrow was going to bring up those feelings. . . If she was going to cause him this long-forgotten trouble, then he'd have to get rid of her permanently.

Placing his goblet aside, Reaver got to his feet and removed his pistol from it's holster. After a moment's hesitation, he left the room, Sparrow's room being his destination. She should be asleep and so should that mutt. Hmm, that dog might be a problem. However as Reaver turned down the hallway he saw said dog trotting down the hallway in the opposite direction Reaver was heading. He turned and watched Chance go down the stairs. Perhaps he wouldn't have to worry about the dog after all.

When he reached Sparrow's room he entered silently and closed the door behind him. Keeping a firm grip on his pistol he approached her bedside and gazed down at her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful and innocent lying there, her chest slowly rising and falling with her steady breathing. The sight of her lying there so vulnerable almost made Reaver change his mind. No, he had to do this. As he aimed his pistol at her head, her words flashed through his mind again.

_ "You killed everyone in Oakvale just so you could have eternal youth! Your family, your friends, and your lover are all dead because of you! And now here you are, living your life as you please as if celebrating the deaths of all those innocent people!"_

Reaver seemed to be frozen in place, his green eyes staring at Sparrow's almost angelic face, his pistol aimed and ready to shoot her head, to grant her an instant and painless death. His arm and hand felt numb suspended there in mid-air, and he could feel sweat beginning to gather on his forehead.

_Just do it, you fool! _Reaver's mind screamed at himself. _Kill her! Do it now! She doesn't matter! Don't be so weak!_

His grip tightened on his pistol's hilt and his finger began to press on the trigger. His mind was saying yes, but his body refused to move. Why? Why couldn't he kill this one woman? What made her so damn special?

_By killing her the past will be buried for good! Just do it you weak excuse of a man! Destroy her!_

His finger tightened on the trigger and a drop of sweat ran down his slim nose.

_Who are you anyway?! That fool Aaron?! Or Reaver?!_

With a decision in mind Reaver cocked his pistol and aimed it steadily at Sparrow's head.

"I am not he. . ." he said quietly. "I am Reaver." And with that said he put the pistol back in it's holster. Reaching out his hand he lightly brushed his fingers along Sparrow's cheek. "And that means it's your lucky day, my dear," he murmured with a smirk. He then turned and left the room.

* * *

The next morning Sparrow awoke with a yawn and was quite glad to see that she was alone in her bed. As she sat up and stretched her limbs the events of yesterday evening came to her mind. She wondered how Reaver was doing, after all, her words had been very cold and blunt.

_Oh, who cares! _she thought to herself. _He deserved it!_

Sparrow couldn't help feeling guilty though as she changed from her pajamas into her usual outfit. She tried to shake the feeling of guilt as she brushed her long hair and tied her red bandana around her head. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get rid of the guilt. She sighed heavily. Maybe she should apologize to him, even though he didn't deserve it.

_Why do I have to be so guilt-prone? _Sparrow thought to herself irately as she left the confines of her room. She was surprised to see that the door to Reaver's room was open and that nobody occupied it. Why, it looked as though it hadn't been touched all night.

_Surprising, _Sparrow thought. _He can actually survive a night without sex. I'm impressed. _

When Sparrow reached the bottom of the stairs she saw Marielle passing by and called out to her. "Marielle! Where's Reaver?"

"He's in his study," Marielle answered politely.

"Did he leave the house at all last night?"

"No, I don't think so," Marielle said thoughtfully.

"Hmm. Thanks," Sparrow said, heading towards the study. _Okay, time to get this over with. _She opened the door and strode on in, not giving Reaver a chance to speak.

"Look Reaver," she said. "About last night. It wasn't really my place to say all those things, even though they are true. I still think you're a selfish jerk with an over-inflated view of himself, but despite what I think of you I shouldn't have flown off the handle like that. So I figured I owe you an apology even though you do not deserve it. I am only doing it to relieve any guilt I feel. I'm not doing it for you, so don't get any funny ideas."

Sparrow stopped to take a breath, her eyes not meeting Reaver's but instead focussed on the floor. Reaver meanwhile was just staring at Sparrow with a raised eyebrow, a goblet of wine in his hand which was half raised towards his mouth as if he were about to take a drink of it.

"Alright. . . here I go." Sparrow gulped, trying to humble her pride. She never knew how hard it was to just say two simple words! "Okay. . . just a few more moments of mental preparation. . ."

Reaver continued to watch her, unmoving.

"I'm. . . .I'm. . . I. . ." Damn it! He didn't deserve an apology! Why did she feel the need to do this? "I'm so-"

"Don't trouble yourself. I don't need your apology," Reaver interrupted suddenly, making Sparrow look up at him in surprise. "It's demeaning."

"Demean-!" Sparrow's eyes flashed angrily and she looked as though she wanted to tear him into tiny little pieces. "You've got nerve! You arrogant bastard! How could you say such a thing to someone who's_ trying_ to be decent?!"

"I meant it's demeaning for you," Reaver corrected her impassively, taking a sip of his wine.

Now that made Sparrow's jaw drop. "What? What did you . . .?"

"Pretty much everything you said about me last night was true," Reaver said indifferently, refilling his wine glass. "You shouldn't demean yourself by apologizing to someone who doesn't need to be apologized to."

"I. . . I. . well, I guess. . ." Sparrow was still feeling completely shocked by what Reaver was saying. She was totally expecting him to revel in the fact that she was apologizing and then gloat about it! This whole noble act was not at all what she'd been expecting!

_Don't fall for it! _Sparrow's inner self warned her. _He's up to something!_

"What are you trying to pull, Reaver?" Sparrow narrowed her eyes on him suspiciously and he chuckled.

"Why nothing, my dear!" he said, waving a dismissing hand at her. "Now, skip along and do whatever it is you plan on doing today. Rescuing travellers, or killing bandits, or killing travellers! Whatever tickles your fancy. Hop along now!"

Slowly turning on her heel, her gaze lingering on him, Sparrow left the study feeling, well, feeling something! Perhaps she was still shocked. With a shake of her head she called Chance and left the house. She felt the sudden need to get out of the manor as quickly as possible. The sooner she bought Fairfax Castle the better.

* * *

Reaver dully gazed down at the wine in his goblet. He felt drained, considering he didn't get much sleep last night. On top of that, he felt confused. Sparrow yelled at him harshly, and then the next day she was actually going to _apologize _to him? Despite the fact that she meant every word she said too! My my, this woman was full of surprises! But then again, so was he. Why, he had even surprised himself when he stopped her from apologizing. Maybe Aaron wasn't completely gone after all. Reaver gave a sudden jerk as soon as that thought came to mind. No, Aaron was dead and there was no way he would ever come back. Reaver was in control now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

_She's Nicer When She's Drunk_

* * *

The next three weeks passed slowly for Sparrow and each day she added a little more gold to her savings. Each day she was closer to leaving the god-forsaken manor and going to live in the luxurious Fairfax Castle.

Reaver continued to annoy her by being his irksome self, but she found that he treated her slightly differently since that day she had yelled at him. For instance, she never again awoke to find that she was surrounded by naked people, and Reaver always warned her before he was going to throw a party so that she could spend the night elsewhere. The new and subtle change in his treatment of her made her feel strange, especially in her stomach region.

Sparrow was on her way back to the manor, feeling exhausted from working at the local tavern all day. However, the results of her hard work came in the form of gold, which she held securely in a bag in her hand. Chance bounded along beside her as usual, his ears perked playfully. Sparrow grinned and managed to find enough energy to race him to the front door.

"You win again, boy!" Sparrow panted as soon as she reached the door. Chance happily trotted inside as soon as Sparrow opened the door. She followed and closed the door behind her. Lisa then approached with a smile.

"Good evening, Sparrow," she said, taking the money from her. "I'll put this in your safe for you. Dinner is ready and awaiting you in the dining room."

"Thanks, Lisa," Sparrow said gratefully, heading in the direction of said dining room. She was starving! As soon as she entered however, her laidback attitude immediately tensed up and her expression fell into an annoyed line. Reaver was at one end of the table, and he raised his goblet upon seeing her.

"Ah! Hello my dear!" he greeted jovially. "You've been gone all day! I was wondering when you were going to show up!"

"I had a long shift today," Sparrow said with a shrug, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. She looked down at the delicious dish in front of her and eagerly began to eat.

"Hungry I see," Reaver mused, raising an eyebrow as Sparrow wolfed down her casserole. "Stop and take a minute to drink something, Sparrow!"

Sparrow raised her suspicious eyes on him. "Why?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, to wash the food down of course!" Reaver rolled his eyes. "Don't look so distrustful! If I was going to kill you I would've done it already. So do not worry, dearest, I haven't poisoned your drink." _I only spiked it with strong alcohol. _Reaver had to fight to keep a smirk off his face as he watched Sparrow bring her goblet up to her lips and take a sip.

As she placed her goblet down she furrowed her brow. "That. . . that's pretty good. What is it?" she inquired.

"Raspberry cordial," Reaver said with a smug smile. "The best cordial you can get in all of Albion. Do drink as much as you like, I have plenty down in the pantry."

Well, Sparrow didn't see any harm in it. This raspberry cordial was delicious! Why not indulge herself? Just for tonight.

She drained her goblet and placed it down, empty, licking her lips. "I think I'll take you up on that offer, Reaver. I'd like some more."

"Very well," Reaver said, turning to look toward Marielle who stood by, waiting to see if they needed anything. "Bring up the largest bottle of raspberry cordial we've got, love."

Marielle blushed lightly and bowed, heading out of the room.

Six goblets of cordial later, Sparrow was carefully pouring herself a seventh glass.

"This stuff is addicting," she slurred slightly, taking a sip from her goblet. "Are you sure you don't want any, Reaver?"

"Oh I'm positive, my dear." _I definitely want to be sober tonight._

"Suit yourself," Sparrow shrugged and leaned back in her chair, completely at ease due to the alcohol. She took a sip of her cordial, unaware of Reaver's smoldering eyes upon her. Her shirt collar was open, revealing her collar bone and nothing more, but that was still enough get him excited.

"Sparrow," he started, shifting in his chair, "why don't we make our way upstairs? You look tired from your hard day's work."

Sparrow scoffed. "Hell! I'm not tired! I coulda worked all night long!"

"Good to know. . ." he murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "That means we have a long night ahead of us."

Sparrow stood up on her unsteady feet, her goblet still clutched tightly in her hand. She swayed slightly and then proceeded to head out of the room.

"Where are you headed off to, Sparrow?" Reaver asked, quickly climbing to his feet as well and heading after her.

"I think I'm drunk," she muttered, shoving her goblet into Reaver's hands and proceeding to climb the stairs on all fours so that she wouldn't lose her balance and fall. "Why didn't you tell me raspberry cordial was alcoholic?"

With a moment's hesitation, Reaver placed the goblet aside and scooped Sparrow up bridal style.

"Allow me to help you up the stairs, my dear!" he said, ignoring her question and feeling his face flush in anticipation. Having her so close to him, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck, it was intoxicating.

"Thanks," she said suddenly, surprising him. However, she wasn't making eye contact with him and her body felt slightly tensed.

"You must learn to relax, Sparrow," Reaver whispered in her ear, noticing her shiver at the touch of his hot breath upon her skin.

"Since when do you care about me?" Sparrow scoffed, looking as far away from him as she could.

Reaver chuckled. "Now now, don't be like that."

When he reached the top of the stairs he went straight to his room and closed the door behind them. Sparrow, being drunk, didn't notice that they were in Reaver's room. She figured it was her room.

"Just place me down on the bed," she instructed. Reaver did so, and then surprised her by climbing on top of her.

"What are you doing?!" she squeaked, her eyes wide.

"You're much nicer when you're drunk," he whispered huskily, pressing his body down on her and nuzzling his nose in the crook of her neck.

Sparrow writhed under him. "No, stop!"

Reaver could hear a slight tremor in her voice, but that didn't stop him. If nothing it egged him on. "You want this as much as I do," he whispered, his voice hoarse. He began kissing her neck gently, ignoring her sounds of protest. She wouldn't be able to resist for long, he was sure of it.

Sparrow's breath hitched in her throat, warning bells going off in her head. Did she really want to give herself away to Reaver? The man who she swore would never have the satisfaction of bedding her? The man who would probably gloat about it for weeks? She was really having trouble thinking straight. Damn the alcohol! His hand was sneaking up her shirt, his mouth was mere inches away from hers. . . _Come on, girl! Snap out of it!_

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" Sparrow roared suddenly, pushing a very unsuspecting Reaver over the side of the bed and onto the floor. Without giving him a chance to do anything else, Sparrow rolled off his bed and stumbled out of the room, her face considerably flushed.

Reaver was quite flushed himself as he slowly pushed himself up off the floor and stared at the door that Sparrow had left open in her hasty retreat. His shoulders slumping, he sat down on the edge of his bed with a groan. He could already tell that he wasn't going to get much sleep tonight.

Sparrow meanwhile was having her own sleeping problems. She could still feeling his body weight on top of her, and she could still feel his mouth- No! She covered her head with her pillow and groaned in frustration. If she hated him so much, why did he have this effect on her? Maybe one of the reasons she hated him was _because _he had that effect on her.

_Oh come on, you like him. You're in denial! _her inner self taunted her. _Now go back to his room and have some fun!_

"Oh shut up," Sparrow grumbled to herself, rolling onto her side and staring at the door. _I don't like him. I don't! I don't! I don't!_

_ Yes, you do._

_ No, I most certainly do not! He's a egotistical jerk!_

_ You like him because he's an egotistical jerk. He's unlike anybody you've ever known before._

_ Okay, seriously, shut up._

Sparrow felt ridiculous having these inner conflicts with herself. With a heavy sigh she closed her eyes, tried to let her body relax, and tried to get Reaver out of her mind.

* * *

Reaver stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom listlessly. He had been lying in bed for at least three hours and he hadn't had one ounce of sleep. He had considered going to a brothel and sleeping with some whores, but the idea just didn't appeal to him. He didn't want whores right now, he wanted Sparrow! It was very unlike him to want one particular girl, excluding all others.

Reaver had taken advantage of drunk girls before, and it was always good fun. However, he found himself wishing that he didn't have to get Sparrow drunk to sleep with her.

_Heh, Sparrow is right. All I think about is sex, money, and alcohol. . ._

But now, she seemed to be in his thoughts all the time. Why? No woman had ever stuck in his mind like she did in over 300 years! He inhaled sharply when he suddenly realized that the last woman who had been constantly on his mind like Sparrow was. . . _her. _His Oakvale lover. Before the frightening thought came to mind Reaver quickly dismissed it.

_No. I'm not in love with Sparrow._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

_Stolen: First Kiss_

* * *

Now Sparrow remembered why she didn't like getting drunk: hangovers. Not wanting to get up, Sparrow buried herself under her bed covers and groaned. She had trouble remembering what had happened last night, and her pounding headache didn't help much. Had Reaver really tried taking advantage of her last night? Or had that just been a bad dream due to the alcohol in her system? She was hoping it was the latter.

Finally finding the motivation to get out of bed despite the way she was feeling, Sparrow stood up on unsteady legs. She gave Chance's head a quick pet as she passed him, her destination being the bathroom. Her loyal friend followed after her, his tail wagging slowly. He could tell Sparrow wasn't feeling well, and so he wished to comfort her.

Sparrow smiled down at him. "Don't worry, boy, I'm going to be fine. . ." her voice trailed off as soon as she got a good look at her neck in the mirror. "REAVER!"

Sparrow marched angrily out of her room and straight into Reaver's room where he stood at the side of his bed and held his hands up defensively as she approached, glaring daggers at him.

"Calm yourself down, dearest," he said with a nervous chuckle.

Completely ignoring the fact that Reaver stood before her in nothing but his pajama pants, Sparrow pointed to her neck. "Look!" was all she could seem to say.

Reaver bent in a bit to get a better view. "Oh, yes, it is one of the finest necks I've ever seen."

"Stop that! You know what I'm talking about!" Sparrow huffed, her eyes flashing. "My neck looks like it's been assaulted by a balverine!"

"Not sure whether I should take that as a compliment or not," Reaver muttered to himself before clearing his throat and saying, "You're over-exaggerating, Sparrow. It doesn't look that bad!"

"It's bad enough! What exactly happened last night?!" Sparrow's mind was still a little fuzzy on the details, not to mention her head was still pounding painfully.

"You, ah, you don't remember?" Reaver raised an eyebrow.

"All I can remember is that you tried to take advantage of me," Sparrow replied in a dangerous tone. "Try that again and I'll. . . never mind. Just tell me. . . how far did we get?" All she knew was that her clothes had stayed on, which was good. They couldn't possibly have gotten _too_ far.

"You're still a virgin, my dear," he said simply, moving past her to get some proper clothes out of his closet. When Sparrow suddenly realized he was topless she flushed and looked away. Thank goodness his back was facing her when the redness crept into her cheeks.

"Glad to hear that," Sparrow said, swallowing thickly. "But. . . um, did you. . . _touch _anything besides my neck?"

Reaver looked back at her over his shoulder with a lewd smirk on his face, but said nothing. That just made Sparrow flush a darker shade of red, and it darkened even more when she realized that he was about to change into his clothes right there in front of her.

"Reaver!" she protested, quickly turning her back, her face practically on fire. "For heaven's sake! You're shameless!"

"Tell me something I don't know, love," he chuckled, proceeding to get changed.

Sparrow rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "I don't know why I deal with you. You're impossible."

"I could say the same about you," Reaver retorted, fixing his belt. "You can look now, my dear."

Sparrow turned, but then quickly flushed and turned away again as soon as she saw his shirt wasn't on yet. "Put your shirt on first!" she hissed, thoroughly embarrassed.

"My my, you certainly are a shy one aren't you?" Reaver chuckled, very much amused as he pulled his shirt on. "We'll have to fix that won't we?"

Sparrow found herself rendered speechless by that last remark. Reaver just smirked and adjusted his cape before turning to face a full length mirror to examine himself and comb his hair. "Now you can look, Sparrow."

So Sparrow did, a faint bit of redness still on her cheeks. "I don't want you taking advantage of me again, okay? Next time you should warn me when I'm drinking something alcoholic!"

Reaver froze in his actions for a moment when he realized that Sparrow didn't know he had spiked the cordial. She figured it was just a normal alcoholic drink. He smirked to himself and continued styling his hair. "I shall be sure to warn you next time, love."

"And absolutely no taking advantage of me. Got it?" Sparrow said sternly, a frown on her face and her eyes narrowed. Reaver could see her angry expression behind him in the mirror.

"Believe me, my dear," he turned away from the mirror and walked right up to her, "the next time you're in my bed it will be willingly on your part. I can promise you that." Sparrow stood as still as a statue, looking up into his intense green eyes. He seemed so sure of himself, and Sparrow was beginning to doubt her ability to resist him. He was so handsome and-

Her thoughts stopped abruptly when she suddenly realized his lips were softly pressing on hers. Her whole body tensed and her eyes went wide, yet she didn't pull away from him, which she blamed on shock. Everything at that moment was forgotten, and all she could think about was the warm and surprisingly gentle kiss she was receiving from him. When Reaver pulled away after a few minutes there was a soft expression on his face which left Sparrow breathless, but it was quickly replaced by that cocky trademark smirk of his.

"Like I said before, red suits you," he whispered, tapping her nose lightly with a finger before moving past her and leaving the room.

Sparrow's hands went up to cover her flaming red cheeks and she slowly turned to face the doorway where Reaver had gone. Well, she had never suspected she would get her first kiss from _him, _and what surprised her even more was that she had actually _liked_ it.

However, defying the way she felt about it, she marched out into the hallway and yelled after him, "Don't you dare steal a kiss from me ever again, mister!"

"My dear, _both_ of us are going to participate in the next kiss we share!" came Reaver's amused reply from down below.

Sparrow had a very hard time trying to fight a small smile that wanted to creep onto her face.

* * *

Much to Sparrow's annoyance, Reaver's stolen kiss was on her mind all day. Her constant chanting of 'I hate him' in her head was beginning to die, and she finally admitted to herself that she was probably in denial.

"Okay, maybe I don't _hate _him," Sparrow said to Chance that night as she sat upon her bed in her room, staring at the fireplace. "You know, hate is a strong word. Perhaps 'dislike' would be more correct."

Chance let out a sigh and lay his head in Sparrow's lap. She absentmindly began to stroke him.

"Maybe I'm just used to having him around," she muttered. She really didn't want to admit that she was falling for him. She wasn't! There was no way she could fall for such an arrogant, womanizing, self-absorbed man!

Chance looked up at her with his ears raised as if to say, 'Well, everybody has their faults, you included.'

"I know, I know. . ." Sparrow muttered. "I'm not the most easy-going and charismatic woman in the world." Charismatic. Hah! Her charisma was probably -10. She had been raised with one purpose: to kill Lucien. Social skills weren't exactly one of her strong points, or even something she really cared about.

A sudden disappointment welled up in her chest when an unexpected thought entered her mind: Reaver only liked her for her beauty. She had no idea why this thought came to mind when it did, but it upset her. It seemed that every man she met was only attracted to her looks, not her as a person. Why, if she was a plain girl men would probably treat her like she didn't exist!

As if sensing the sudden wave of unhappiness, Chance reached up and licked Sparrow's cheek gently.

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. He was always there for her, right from the beginning. "I love you, Chance."

Chance wagged his tail as if to say, 'I love you too.'

"Oh, how touching," came Reaver's sarcastic voice from her doorway.

Sparrow's head snapped up and she glared at the smirking scoundrel. "What do you want?"

"I just came to say goodnight and-"

He was interrupted by a female voice coming from the direction of his bedroom. "Reaver! Hurry up!"

Reaver looked almost annoyed as he peered down the hallway and said, "Patience, my dear!"

Sparrow quirked an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

Reaver turned his attention back to Sparrow. "Do you really need to ask, dearest?"

"Oh yes, she's just some random girl you're going to sleep with, aren't you?" Sparrow looked at him calmly for a moment before jumping off of her bed, rage in her eyes. "Oh, no you don't! You can't just kiss me and go off sleeping with other women! No way! Get her out of here before I push her out the window!"

"Then _you'll_ sleep with me?" Reaver asked hopefully, a smirk on his face.

"No!"

"Oh, you're no fun!"

"Reaver!" came the impatient female's voice from down the hallway again.

"Quiet!" Reaver barked at her, quickly returning his attention to Sparrow. "How do you expect me to get sleep tonight without a warm, naked body wrapped up in my arms?"

"Get used to it," Sparrow said with a glare.

"But, my dear-"

"Don't you 'but my dear' me!" Sparrow grabbed him by the collar of his shirt roughly. "As long as I'm in this house no other women are allowed! Well, aside from the maids of course. . . And no men either! I'm sick of feeling like I live in a brothel! If you want sex, you have to leave the house to get it!" She released him and folded her arms, looking at him the same way a mother would look at her naughty son.

Reaver fixed his shirt and looked down at Sparrow, considering he was much taller then her. "I don't remember that being part of our deal."

"Well, it's part of our deal now," Sparrow said stubbornly.

"You can't do that!" Reaver said with a snort. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an impatient woman waiting for me in my bed. Goodnight."

"Reaver!" Sparrow protested, her face flushing angrily. "Damn you!" She slammed the door after him and stomped out onto her balcony to try and calm herself down.

A few moments later, Sparrow was surprised to see a young woman marching angrily away from the house. Her eyebrows raised and she instinctively looked over to the balcony of Reaver's bedroom and saw him standing there, watching her with an unreadable expression. He had sent the whore away? Sparrow just stared at Reaver in utter shock and he returned her stare. Moments that seemed like hours passed before Sparrow broke eye contact and looked down at her hands. Her stomach felt like it was doing backflips. He had sent that woman away. He had never done such a thing before. Feeling herself starting to flush she turned and walked back into her room, closing the balcony's curtain.

A few moments after Sparrow had disappeared from the balcony Reaver walked back into his room as well. What was coming over him? Women and men just didn't seem to appeal to him anymore. Only Sparrow did.

He sighed heavily and grabbed a goblet of wine, taking a long drink of it. He was sure things would go back to normal when Sparrow left to go and live in Fairfax Castle.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

_I Never_

* * *

Sparrow found it hard to believe that she had managed to live in the same house as Reaver for a whole month now. As she sorted through the gold she had managed to save up she calculated that it would take approximately around another month for her to have just enough money to buy Fairfax Castle. She was surprised to find that the thought of leaving Bloodstone Manor and Reaver made her feel a bit sad. However, she shook off the feeling and placed all her gold back into her safe. She yawned and looked out her balcony, observing the setting sun. A soft knock on her bedroom door drew her attention away from the beautiful sight.

"Come in," she said.

Lisa entered and gave a small nod of greeting before saying, "Reaver wishes to see you in his study."

"Oh, he does, does he?" Sparrow raised an eyebrow and then climbed to her feet, stretching. "Alright, I'll be down in a minute."

Lisa nodded and left the room, closing the room behind her while Sparrow opened her closet and pulled out a dark shawl to give her some warmth since she was dressed in only her nightgown. She then left the room and headed down the stairs, curious as to what Reaver wanted. Upon entering the study she saw him standing by the fireplace, pouring wine into two goblets. He looked up and threw her a charming smile upon seeing her approaching.

"Ah! There you are, my dear," he said, taking one of the goblets and holding it out to her. "Tell me, have you ever heard of the game 'I Never'?"

Sparrow smirked as she took the goblet of wine from him. "Reaver, I was raised by gypsies. Of course I know of the game 'I Never'. The real question is: have I ever played it?"

Reaver raised a fine eyebrow. "Well? Have you?"

"No, I was far too busy with my training to sit around a campfire and get drunk playing 'I Never'," Sparrow replied, sitting down by the warm fire that crackled happily in the fireplace.

"This is your lucky day, then!" Reaver said, sitting down in a seat, matching her smirk with one of his own. "Join me in a game of 'I Never'. It'll do you good to have fun for once in your dull life."

"Dull life?" Sparrow laughed dryly. "My life wasn't so dull three years ago when I was hunting Lucien."

"Well, now it is dull, and that's a fact," Reaver said in a tone that dared her to contradict him. "You work at the tavern all day, and then you come home and mope around with that mutt of yours. That is _dull_."

Sparrow's heart seemed to skip a beat when Reaver mentioned the manor as being her 'home', but the feeling quickly passed. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and raised her chin, eyeing him somewhat defiantly.

"All right, Reaver," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching, "I'll play 'I Never' with you tonight. But there is no way we're going to make a habit out of it. Understand?"

"Of course, love," Reaver said, very pleased that he was able to convince her to play with him. "Would you like me to explain the game to you? To refresh your memory?"

"Sure, might as well," Sparrow said, placing her goblet down on the floor in front of her.

Reaver slipped out of his chair and sat on the floor in front of Sparrow, placing his goblet down as well. "Here's an example: I say 'I never went to school', however, if I in fact _had _gone to school I would take a drink of my wine, and you would as well if you had gone to school. But if either of us really had never gone to school, we wouldn't drink. Got that?"

"Exactly as I remember it," Sparrow said, surprising herself by actually feeling like she was going to enjoy herself.

"Ladies first," Reaver said, once again matching her smirk with his.

"I never slept with a man," Sparrow said, knowing that Reaver was going to take a drink and she wasn't. Her prediction was correct.

"Ahh, you already knew the answer to that one, you little minx," Reaver said, giving her a wink.

"So what if I did?" Sparrow folded her arms and raised her chin slightly again. "It was a warm-up."

"Very well," Reaver said, straightening and then saying, "I never wore a skirt."

Sparrow raised an eyebrow and took a drink from her goblet. Needless to say she was glad Reaver didn't take a drink from his.

"Well, I'm glad you've never worn a skirt," Sparrow voiced her relief. "For if you ever had, I would've been disturbed."

Reaver laughed jovially. "I may be bisexual, my dear, but I'm no drag queen. Your turn."

"I never tripped over my own feet." Sparrow took a drink from hers and raised her eyebrows when Reaver didn't take a drink from his. "Oh come on! Everybody has tripped over their own feet at least once in their lives!"

"Not me," Reaver said stubbornly. "I am much too graceful."

Sparrow snorted at that. "Your turn then, Mr. Graceful."

Reaver thought for a moment. "I never stared at a person's backside." Reaver took a drink, but Sparrow didn't. "My goodness! You really are a prude, aren't you?"

Sparrow flushed. "I prefer the term 'innocent', mister. And I mean innocent in a sexual way." For she had killed many people, so she was far from being innocent in that regard.

"But is innocence bliss?" Reaver asked skeptically.

"My turn. I've never been sceptical of innocence," Sparrow said quickly, folding her arms as she watched Reaver take a drink.

Reaver could tell that the last topic had made Sparrow tense. He needed to loosen her up before she ended up storming off, angry at him, as usual. "I've never owned a pet."

Sparrow took a drink of her wine, and much to her surprise, Reaver did as well.

"What kind of pet did you have?" she asked curiously.

"I still have her," Reaver said with a smirk.

Sparrow looked beyond confused. "Well, I haven't seen her around. Is she a mouse or something?" When Sparrow saw the look Reaver was giving her she finally caught on and bristled. "_I'm_ not your pet!"

Reaver laughed heartily while Sparrow fumed. "It's a joke my dear! Dear lord! You need to loosen up!"

"Tell me something I don't know," Sparrow said, rolling her eyes. "Whose turn is it?"

Reaver thought for a moment. "Your turn, dearest."

"I never get uptight," Sparrow smirked, taking a drink. Reaver hesitated as if trying to remember something before taking a drink.

"Mind you, I don't get uptight often," he said quickly after he had swallowed.

"Now _that_ I believe," Sparrow replied, grabbing the wine bottle and topping off her goblet. After she was done Reaver did the same.

"Feeling light headed yet?" asked he with a smug smirk.

"I work at a tavern, Reaver, it takes a lot more then a goblet of wine to make me light headed," the brunette snorted, fixing him with a calculating look. "I don't want either of us to get drunk, so what's your limit?"

Reaver shrugged. "I don't know; I never keep track."

"Well, that's helpful," Sparrow grumbled, looking down at her goblet for a second before saying, "Your turn."

"I've never been drunk on purpose," he said, drinking from his goblet.

Another smirk appeared on Sparrow's face. "Doesn't surprise me." She didn't drink from her goblet.

"Goodness, woman!" Reaver exclaimed, smacking his forehead. "You've never been drunk on purpose before?! You really _are_ a prude!"

Sparrow flushed. "No, I'm not! I'm just smart!"

"Being smart is being a prude!" Reaver insisted with a chuckle. She was so easy to get riled up.

"It is not!"

"Is to."

"Is not!"

"Is to!"

"Is no- oh forget it!" Sparrow huffed, leaning back and folding her arms with a pout. "You're so annoying!"

"Oh Sparrow, you know I do it to tease you," Reaver smirked, reaching out and grabbing her hand, placing a lingering kiss on her knuckles. His eyes raised to look at hers. "And I know you like it."

Feeling flustered, Sparrow just huffed and pulled her hand away. "I don't like it. If I did it wouldn't be considered _annoying_."

Reaver just leaned back with his trademark smirk on his face. "It's your turn, dear."

"I never annoy someone just because I assume they like it," she said, watching him as he took a slow drink from his goblet, his eyes never leaving hers. There was something in his eyes that made her squirm.

"Stop it!" she finally hissed, her eyes looking to the carpet for some kind of solace.

"Stop what?" Reaver asked innocently.

"S-stop looking at me like you're going to pounce on me any second!" Sparrow stammered a little.

"So, what if I am?" Reaver asked, moving into a crouched position, the smirk never leaving his face and his eyes never leaving her face.

"Oh no you don't!" Sparrow squeaked, hastily climbing to her feet and moving out of the way as Reaver lunged for her, knocking her goblet of wine over. However, he didn't seem to care. All he cared about at that moment was catching his delicious prey.

"Reaver! Don't you dare!" Sparrow warned him as he climbed to his feet and began approaching her slowly.

"Too late," Reaver grinned wickedly, "I'm in a predatory mood now."

Sparrow turned on her heel and dashed from the study with Reaver in hot pursuit. She felt a grin tugging at the corners of her lips. This was fun. This was exhilarating! No! No it wasn't! As her inner self had another debate with itself, Sparrow ran up the stairs, her bedroom being her destination. What she would do when she got there, well, she had no idea. All she knew was that Reaver was on her tail and she needed to get away from him.

"Oh come on! You're acting immature!" Sparrow called over her shoulder, trying to fight a giggle, _a giggle,_ that threatened to escape her lips.

"Having fun isn't immature, my dear," Reaver purred from behind. Before Sparrow could get into her room she felt Reaver's strong arms grasp her waist and pull her back against his chest. "Got you!"

Sparrow huffed and folded her arms, trying to ignore the heat emanating off of him. "I've never chased a girl through my house."

Reaver laughed out loud, placing his chin down on Sparrow's shoulder. "If I had my goblet of wine I would indeed take a drink from it." Reaver then noticed the corners of Sparrow's mouth were upturned. She was smiling! He quickly grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, looking down at her beaming face.

"Well, well. . ." he murmured, "I finally got you to smile for me."

Sparrow felt a blush creeping up her neck as she tore her eyes away from Reaver's. "Congratulations," she said, trying to sound ticked off, and failing miserably. She then felt the warmth of his fingers on her chin, turning her face to his again.

"You should smile more often," he whispered before leaning down and closing his lips on hers. Sparrow's shoulders tensed for a split second before she relaxed, letting out a small sigh. Hesitantly, she pressed her lips against his in return. Why, a month ago, if he had tried to kiss her she would have sent him flying across the room! Why were things different now? Sparrow broke off the gentle kiss suddenly, her face completely red. She backed away from Reaver, trying to search for some words to say.

Luckily, Reaver broke the silence for her. "I told you the next kiss we shared would involve the both of us."

As her blue eyes looked up to meet his green Reaver's smirk was replaced with a melancholy expression. He walked up to her and took her by the arm, leading her into her room. Before he closed the door he parted with these words: "I've never been in denial." He then closed the door and headed to his own room, running his hand through his hair, feeling greatly troubled. "I think we can both drink to that."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

_The Choice of Love_

* * *

Reaver could tell that since the night of their kiss Sparrow had been avoiding him. It had been a week since then, and she always left early in the morning and came home late at night, and when she came home she would hole herself up in her room with that mutt of hers and refuse to come out, or even talk to anybody.

Finally getting tired of her sudden anti-social behaviour, Reaver marched up the stairs one night, heading straight to her room where he knocked three times upon her door.

"Sparrow! Stop hiding and open this door!" he demanded.

"I'm not _hiding_!" came Sparrow's indignant answer from the other side of the door.

Reaver didn't believe that one bit. "Then why are you always in your room? Hmm? You don't even come out to eat anymore! You always let one of the maids-" Reaver was cut off when the door suddenly opened and he was faced with an angry Sparrow.

"What do you want?" she asked in a quiet tone. Reaver's eyes searched her face for a moment. There were dark circles under her tired eyes and she looked paler then usual.

He frowned. "Are you unwell?"

Sparrow raised her blue eyes to meet his green and he could see pain reflected in them. Though whether this pain was physical or emotional, he did not know.

"In a manner of speaking," Sparrow hesitated. "Yes."

Reaver let out a heavy sigh. "Is it about our kiss?"

"No," Sparrow said very quickly, her face flushing and her eyes now looking anywhere but at him. Her reaction answered his question perfectly.

"I must admit, I am troubled over it too," Reaver said, clasping his hands behind his back and moving past Sparrow into her room. She didn't hinder him, her eyes still focussed on the velvety carpet. "It has been a very long time since I have. . ." Reaver's voice trailed off and Sparrow looked up at his back slowly, waiting for him to finish. "Since I have become somewhat. . . attached to someone," he finally finished, turning to face her with an almost grim expression. "You've really buried yourself deeply under my skin, Sparrow." His eyes darkened. "I don't like it."

The whole time Sparrow stood as still as a statue, watching him as he began to pace, hands still tightly clasped behind his back.

"Tell me, Sparrow," he asked suddenly, looked over at her, "have you ever been in love?"

Surprised by the sudden and unexpected question, Sparrow shook her head. "No. I was too bent on revenge in the past to think about romance."

"And yet you chose love at the Spire," Reaver said, furrowing his brow as his eyes scrutinized her. "Why?"

At first it didn't look like Sparrow was going to answer him. Her gaze once again went to the carpet and her body trembled slightly. It was such a rare thing for Reaver to see her so vulnerable. She looked more like a scared little girl at the moment then the great "hero" of Albion.

"I did it for Chance," she finally spoke, and her voice was quiet but strong. "He was all I had, and Lucien took him away from me. When Chance died, a part of me died as well. I couldn't go on living without him. We have a strong bond, Reaver. We've been through so much together. He'd follow me to hell and back if need be. I've never had a better friend, or more trusted companion. I needed him by my side no matter what."

"I would not know what that is like," Reaver said, turning away from her again so his back was facing her. "Can't say I've ever had a 'trusted' companion."

"Oh, and I wonder why," Sparrow said with sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Maybe it's because you're a selfish and obnoxious man who cares about no one but himself!"

Reaver suddenly whirled around to face her, his eyes flashing. Sparrow almost flinched and took a step back. She had never seen such anger from him before. "I wasn't always like this," he said in a low tone, gesturing to himself. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I am who I am now. I cannot change that, and neither can you!"

"No, you're wrong about that!" Sparrow returned, taking a brave step forward. "Anyone can change! Everybody changes depending on their life experiences and circumstance. Oh Reaver, you don't know how much I wish I could've lived a normal life. I wish I was a normal person, but I'm not!"

"You see!" Reaver pointed a finger at her. "You cannot change!"

"I can't change _what _I am, but I can change _who _I am if I want to! And the same applies to you!" Sparrow could feel some tears stinging at the corners of her eyes so she quickly turned away, wrapping her arms around herself. She could hear Reaver approaching her until she could feel the heat from his body on her back.

"What are you afraid of?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Sparrow's shoulders were trembling, and Reaver guessed she was crying, or at least trying not to cry. "Tell me." His voice was firm, but gentle.

Sparrow took a shaky breath before saying, "Love."

She said it so softly Reaver had to strain to hear her properly. Needless to say, her answer shocked him. However, he didn't let this show. He scoffed and walked away from her towards the balcony. "You have a right to fear it," he said in a cold tone. "Becoming attached to someone, or something, is dangerous."

Sparrow stiffened at his words and tone. For some reason, she felt a stab of pain in the region of her heart. She shrugged it off and turned, narrowing her eyes on his back. "How would you know anyway? Have you ever truly loved? Or is it all just carnal lust to you?"

Reaver was quiet for a moment before answering her. "Yes. Once. A long time ago, and I don't care to discuss it."

"Because you sacrificed her life for your eternal youth?" Sparrow spoke before thinking and immediately regretted what she said when Reaver suddenly spun around and pointed his pistol right at her head.

"I could've killed you a month ago," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "But I didn't." He took slow steps towards her as he talked, and as he did Sparrow backed up until she felt her back come into contact with the wall. Her heart pounded in her chest.

"I could've killed you in your sleep, any time during the past month," Reaver continued, stopping right in front of her, the cold end of his pistol now lightly touching her forehead. "I could kill you right now." He cocked his pistol and Sparrow's breath hitched in her throat. She felt paralyzed on the spot, unable to move or think. Reaver then suddenly pulled his pistol away and grabbed Sparrow, placing a rather heated kiss on her lips. Still feeling numb all over, Sparrow's eyes widened as searing heat travelled to every inch of her body. However, the kiss lasted only a minute before Reaver pulled away and said, "But I won't." He then turned and left the room.

* * *

"Good morning, my dear! Did you sleep well?" Reaver greeted Sparrow in his usual cheerful manner when she entered the dining room the next morning.

"Don't you dare act like nothing happened between us last night!" Sparrow growled as she slumped into her chair and stared at her scrambled eggs with disinterest.

"Did something happen between us last night? Don't tell me we got drunk and had sex! Though that would explain why I don't remember. . ."

"No, we didn't!" Sparrow snapped, smacking her hands face-down on the table in frustration. "We argued about love, then you threatened to kill me, then you kissed me, and then you left! You're growing more confusing to me with each passing day!"

Reaver almost winced. He really didn't want to remember what had happened between them last night. He had become too vulnerable to her, too _emotional, _too. . . Aaron. It wouldn't happen again. And so, he told her. "You best forget what happened last night, sweetheart," he said. "It won't happen again."

"Good! I've had enough of you and your messing with my head!" Sparrow huffed, stabbing her eggs with her fork and shovelling them into her mouth. Though she didn't taste the eggs one bit, her mind was still replaying a few parts of their argument that had stuck in her brain.

Was there. . . was there something blossoming between the two of them?

He had kissed her three times, and one of those times she had returned the kiss and had _liked _it.

Sparrow slowly took her goblet and took a drink from it. How could she be falling for Reaver? It just wasn't possible! She hated him! She swore she would never fall for him like all the other women in Albion did!

_"Face it, girl. He's charmed you just like every other girl in Albion," _her inner self taunted her. _"He's trying to get to you on purpose. You know what he really wants, and as soon as he gets it he'll drop you like a hot potato."_

"He won't get it," Sparrow said, her blue eyes intense.

"Sorry?" Reaver looked up from his plate, his eyes resting on her curiously.

"Oh, uh. . . nothing," Sparrow said quickly, getting up from her seat. "I've got to go to work." And with that said, she left the manor with Chance bounding along behind her.

* * *

_"Why? Why? WHY?" _Reaver almost felt like smacking his head against the wall. _"Why did I have to become attached to her!? Why?" _He sighed heavily and placed a hand to his forehead. _"As soon as she leaves the manor the feeling of attachment will pass." _He took a slow drink of wine from his goblet, swishing the warm liquid around in his mouth before swallowing it, savouring the soft burn down his throat. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth in his midsection. However, the warmth immediately left when he opened his eyes, looked out the window, and saw a certain muscular warrior monk approaching his manor.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

_Girl Talk_

* * *

"Reaver! You open this door before I smash it down!"

Reaver had no doubt Hammer would have no qualms with smashing the fine, pure oak door down, so he was tempted to unlatch it and let the large woman in. However, he would first try a different tactic.

"Please, Hammer, must you always resort to violence?" he called through the door in a friendly voice. "Because if you do, that means _I_ will too." Even though he knew she couldn't see him, he patted his beloved pistol which sat comfortably in it's holster.

"Reaver. . ." He could hear the frustration in her voice even though they were blocked by the solid wood door. "I demand to know what happened to Sparrow! In her last letter she told me that she had bought this bloody manor. So, what have you done with her? You had better not have killed her!"

"Kill her?" Reaver laughed. "Of course not, my dear! What a waste of a fine female specimen! I just chained her up in my bedroom and use her as a sex slave."

"REAVER-!"

"I'm kidding!" he quickly interrupted, hurriedly unlatching the door and opening it to be greeted with the sight of Hammer, holding her hammer high up in the air as if just about ready to smash the door down. Good thing he had opened the door when he did.

Hammer slowly lowered her hammer and fixed Reaver with an accusing glare. "Where is Sparrow?"

Reaver shrugged his shoulders and didn't move from his spot in the middle of the doorway. Even though he had no doubt Hammer could easily push him aside, the woman was massive, he wanted to at least try to keep her from entering his abode. Why, she'd probably tear the place apart looking for her oh-so-dear friend.

"I believe she is at the tavern by the waterfront," he said, crossing his arms across his chest. He had a certain air of one who had just been interrupted from something important. "She's working her sweet little buttocks off trying to scrounge up enough money to buy Fairfax Castle."

"Oh really?" Hammer narrowed her eyes on Reaver suspiciously, but he just smiled innocently. She glanced in the direction of town and then turned back to the pirate, pointing a stern finger at him. "If she's not there I'm going to come back and tear your precious house apart until I find her. You may have helped us get rid of Lucien, but it had been very reluctant help. I don't trust you, pirate." And with that said, Hammer turned and descended the stairs.

Reaver watched her depart and then snorted. "Charming girl."

* * *

Sparrow rubbed her eyes and yawned before taking out a damp cloth and giving the counters a once-over. Sleep just didn't seem to want to cooperate with her lately, and she blamed it on Reaver and his messing with her head.

"Reaver. . ." she sighed out loud. As soon as his name left her mouth she slapped a hand over it and glanced around, hoping no one had heard her. The way she had said it made her sound like a lovesick schoolgirl! Luckily, it was a slow day at the tavern, and most of the customers were too busy paying attention to their drinks and bar wenches to hear her slip-up.

Swallowing silently, she continued to clean the counters, losing herself in her thoughts again. He had been on her mind all day, and there had even been times where she had found herself smiling, _smiling_, for no reason at all. She couldn't help but groan and place her head in her hands helplessly.

"Sparrow!"

Sparrow raised her head at the sound of her name. Her depressed mood vanished instantly when she laid eyes upon the one who had uttered it.

"Hammer!" A grin graced Sparrow's usually stoic face as she went around the counter and up to her friend, embracing her warmly. "It's been so long!"

"You're telling me! I'm sorry it took so long for me to visit," Hammer said, returning her friend's grin and embrace. She then held her at an arm's length by the shoulders. "And look at you! You haven't changed a bit!"

"Nor have you!" Sparrow gestured towards a chair by the bar counter. "Won't you sit down? I have a few minutes of work time left. I won't be long."

Soon the two of them were walking side by side back towards Bloodstone Manor with Chance bounding along ahead of them, his tail wagging furiously.

"So, where do you live now, Sparrow?" Hammer asked, figuring that there was no way her friend would live at Bloodstone Manor with Reaver.

"Same place. Bloodstone Manor," Sparrow answered, making Hammer's jaw drop.

"But. . . But Reaver is there!" Hammer looked confused. "Are you actually. . . _living _with him?"

"Yes. . . but not like that!" Sparrow explained quickly, not wanting Hammer to get the wrong idea. "I'm only staying there until I have enough money to buy Fairfax Castle."

"But, why stay with the likes of _him_?" Hammer asked with clear disgust. "I'd sooner live in the streets!"

"It's not as bad as you may think. . . actually, yeah, maybe it is, but I can handle it," Sparrow said with a reassuring smile, not only trying to reassure Hammer, but herself as well. "Don't forget who you're talking to: the grand Hero of Albion!" Sparrow spoke in a joking tone, and pumped her fist into the air dramatically.

Hammer couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I guess you're right about that. But still, Reaver is sneaky and he cares for no one but himself. He could shoot you in your sleep!"

"He hasn't shot me yet," Sparrow said lamely. She couldn't believe she was defending Reaver. "Besides, I lock my door at night, and he doesn't have an extra key for it anymore."

"You're meaning to tell me that the whole time he's lived with you he hasn't tried anything sneaky or underhanded?" Hammer raised an eyebrow, looking quite unconvinced. "I wouldn't put it past him, Sparrow. He's a no-good scoundrel."

Sparrow hesitated before answering. "Okay, I admit that he has tried to do some sneaky things, but really, it's nothing I can't handle."

The two women were now passing through the Bloodstone Manor gates, and Chance's barking caught both of their attention. He stood by the closed door with his tail still in its permanent wag. Sparrow smiled fondly at the dog and quickly jogged up the steps of the manor, opening the door and letting him bound in.

Hammer slowly trudged up the stairs, observing her friend as she did. Sparrow really hadn't changed since she had last saw her, at least, not much in appearance. She still had that long, dark brown hair and red bandana. The only thing that seemed to be very different about her was that there were no glowing blue will lines on her anymore. She wasn't using her will powers, and that made Hammer wonder if Sparrow did any fighting anymore. She wasn't even carrying a sword like she used to do all the time. Well, she really couldn't blame her for not wanting to fight. Hammer herself had pretty much given up fighting after Lucien had been killed. Her eyes narrowed critically as she examined Sparrow's rather thin form. Was she eating properly? Or at all? She had always been on the thin side due to her being a vegetarian, but she looked much thinner then usual, her clothes looking unnaturally baggy on her small frame. And there was something in those shocking blue eyes of hers, something Hammer couldn't quite place. It was like a sort of emptiness.

Shaking the concerned thoughts from her head, Hammer entered the house right behind Sparrow and closed the door behind her firmly. However, before she could say anything she saw every muscle in Sparrow's body go rigid, and her fists clench in anger. She followed Sparrow's gaze to the study and raised her eyebrows upon what she saw.

Reaver was in his study with a small group of scantily clad women gathered around him. Sparrow could tell he was sweet-talking them, using his oh-so-great charms to his advantage. Not that he really needed his charms, those wenches probably would've been content with his good-looks alone.

Anger churned like a fearsome storm in Sparrow's stomach, and judging by the look on her face, Hammer could tell Sparrow was beyond mad. As a matter of fact, Hammer could have sworn she saw a flash of envy in those blue orbs for a moment.

When Reaver spotted them he sent them his usual charming grin. "Ah! My two lovely comrades return! Come and join the party, dears!"

"No, thank you!" Sparrow huffed, raising her chin in a defiant, and even a bit snobbish, manner. "I, unlike those wenches you have clinging to you, have respect and dignity. Come on, Hammer." Sparrow turned on her heel and stomped up the stairs before Reaver could say anything else, followed by a slightly confused Hammer. Sparrow wasn't really jealous was she? She couldn't possibly be pinning after Reaver! The very notion was ridiculous! Sparrow hated Reaver! At least she did the last Hammer had heard.

When the two women reached Sparrow's room she closed the door behind them, and then went off on an unexpected ranting tirade.

"Oh, that Reaver!" she fumed, pacing angrily. "He's such a _pig_! I don't know why I put up with him! How dare he act like he's interested in me, and then go off with other women like I'm nothing but chopped liver!"

"Sparrow. . ." Hammer said calmly.

"Such a jerk! Such an insufferable man!"

"Sparrow. . ."

"He does this to annoy me! I _know_ he does! He's trying to get me to snap and finally agree to-!"

"Sparrow!" Hammer grabbed Sparrow by both shoulders and looked her right in the eyes. "Cool down! Come on, getting upset isn't going to help the situation."

Sparrow let out a frustrated sigh before closing her eyes and taking a few calming deep breaths. After a few moments she opened her eyes and looked a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Hammer. . . I shouldn't have flown off the handle like that. I don't know why, but it bothers me when Reaver does things like. . .like _that_. I feel like he's doing it to get to me."

"Sparrow. . ." Hammer said after letting out a sigh. "Why does it bother you so much? You don't actually _fancy_ Reaver do you? Have you fallen for him? You don't love him, do you?" Though Hammer would've been quite shocked if Sparrow admitted to being in love with Reaver. Who could possibly fall in love with such a jerk? He had betrayed Sparrow two times and probably would have no qualms with doing it again. Hammer was hoping that if Sparrow did have something for Reaver it was only a little infatuation, so that it was something that would go away with separation.

Sparrow recoiled at Hammer's question, her eyes wide in great surprise. "I. . . I'm not in love with him.." she managed to choke out in a weak voice. Hammer's blunt question had caught her completely off guard. "I suppose I am attracted to him to some degree. . . I am only a woman after all." Sparrow hung her head in an almost ashamed way.

"Well I agree that he certainly doesn't leave the eyes wanting, but his horrid personality ruins any sort of attraction I'd have towards him," Hammer said with a snort.

"He isn't as bad as you think, once you get to know him somewhat," Sparrow said, her voice still sounding very unsure.

Hammer gave her a disbelieving look. "I'll believe that when I experience it, which will be _never_." She then took a step towards Sparrow, hand on her hip. "You _do _like him, don't you?"

Sparrow let out a heavy sigh and looked away from Hammer. "As much as I hate to admit it. . . I think I do like him a little bit. But it's not going to amount to anything."

"_Denial," _her inner self laughed at her. Sparrow ignored it and glanced at Hammer, noting that she had a somewhat skeptical expression.

"Well," Hammer finally said with a sigh, "I hope you're right about that, Sparrow. I just find it so hard to believe that you, of all people, have developed a soft spot for _Reaver_. I mean, the last time I saw you, you were so venomous towards him."

"People change," Sparrow said simply.

"I have to agree with that," Hammer said as if she had no choice to believe it. "I've done quite some changing ever since my father died. I guess I just find it hard to imagine Reaver changing. He's been the same obnoxious man for over 200 years hasn't he?"

"As far as I know," Sparrow answered. "Though he pretty much changed his identity after he made that deal with the Shadow Court."

Hammer furrowed her brow. "How do you know?"

"I, ah, I read his diary," Sparrow admitted with a light flush. "Apparently he made a deal with the Shadow Court because he feared death. After the deal was made, the Shadow Court killed everyone in his home village. His family, friends. It changed him. I would even go as far to say it slowly deprived him of his humanity as the years went by."

A knock at the door drew Sparrow's attention away from Hammer and she looked to see Marielle poking her head in.

"Excuse me, Sparrow, but Reaver wishes to see you," her eyes glanced over at Hammer. "Alone."

Hammer looked suspicious while Sparrow just let out a sigh. "Fine. Tell him I'll be down in a minute. Thanks Marielle."

Marielle gave a small bow and then disappeared from sight. As soon as she was gone Hammer turned back to her friend. "What do you suppose he wants?"

"I really have no idea," Sparrow answered, sighing again. "I better go find out."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

_The Bet_

* * *

Sparrow quickly made her way down the stairs and straight over to Reaver's study, more then a little curious as to what he had to say to her. Anger once again filled her senses when she saw that Reaver was still surrounded by those wenches.

"I thought you wanted to see me alone," she huffed, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at him.

"Ah! There you are, my dear!" Reaver said as if just noticing her presence. He looked to the wenches and spoke to them as a group. "Leave us."

Needless to say they left reluctantly with pouts at Reaver and glares at Sparrow. As soon as Reaver and Sparrow were alone in the room together Sparrow fixed her stare on him.

"Well? What do you want?" she asked.

"I want many things, Sparrow, and I always get them," Reaver replied with his trademark smirk. "Be more specific."

Sparrow rolled her eyes and tried to control her temper. "Why did you want to talk to me alone?"

"That's better, darling." Reaver smirked again. "How long is that Hammer going to stick around?"

"I don't know, but she's allowed to stay for as long as she wants," Sparrow said, her face set in a stubborn line. "She's my friend."

"She's your friend, but not _mine_," Reaver said, looking equally stubborn, but in a superior way.

"She won't be any trouble! Come on, Reaver, just let her stay! I can make sure she won't bother you!" Sparrow said in exasperation, sick and tired of arguing with him.

"Mmm. . " Reaver brought an index finger up to his lips and tapped them lightly. "I'll let her stay. . . for a price."

Sparrow groaned inwardly. "How much gold do you want?" she asked, narrowing her eyes distastefully on him.

"Who said anything about _gold_, Sparrow?" A wicked grin appeared on his face while Sparrow's face flushed several different shades of red.

"How long is it going to take you to get it through your thick skull that I am not going to do any. . . physical. . . intimate activities with you!" Sparrow hissed, her face still beat red.

Reaver let out a dramatically disappointed sigh. "Well, it's your loss, my dear." He tapped a finger to his lips again. "Alright, I suppose there is another way you could pay me."

"With money?" Sparrow asked hopefully. She really didn't like paying Reaver any other way.

Reaver wagged a finger in Sparrow's face. "No, dear, I have no interest in money at the moment. I will let Hammer stay, but in return you must agree to being nice to me tomorrow. All day. From sunrise to sunset. No arguments, unkind comments, or snide remarks. You must be a perfect little princess." A smirk then crawled across Reaver's face. "And I bet you can't do it."

Sparrow's surprised look turned to one of aggravation. "I can too! It will be easy!" She sounded more confidant then she really felt.

"Very well then," Reaver said, clapping his hands together, "it's a bet. If you can't be nice to me from sunrise until sundown tomorrow, you'll have to sleep with me that night, whether you like it or not."

"Yeah? Well if I _can_ be nice to you from sunrise 'til sundown, Hammer, and any other friends of mine that might come over at some point, will be allowed to stay here for as long as they like," Sparrow said, folding her arms. Suddenly she realized what the result would be if she failed. "Wait a minute. . . Sleep with you?! No I-"

"Afraid that you can't do it?" Reaver interrupted with a evil smirk.

"No," Sparrow said, looking him straight in those deep green eyes of his. "I'm not afraid. Fine! If I can't do it, I'll sleep with you. But I _will_ win this bet, Reaver. The thought of having to sleep with you if I loose would be enough to keep me from failing."

"Oh! My injured manly pride!" Reaver said dramatically, laughing. "Don't be so sure that you can win, my dear. I know how infuriating I can be to you sometimes."

"You may be the most infuriating man I've ever met, but I can control my temper," Sparrow said, raising her chin defiantly.

Reaver took Sparrow's defiant chin between his forefinger and thumb and lowered it, looking down at her with a sensual smirk. "We shall see."

Sparrow jerked her head away from him, raised her chin again, turned on her heel, and left the room with determination. She was going to be the one who won this bet. If she lost she'd have to sleep with Reaver, and that idea didn't appeal to her very much. Or did it?

When Hammer found out about their little bet she wasn't very happy about it.

"Sparrow! What the hell are you thinking?!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide in horror. "You have such an unruly temper! If you lose this stupid bet you'll have to-"

"I know! I know!" Sparrow said with a heavy sigh, placing a hand on her forehead. "This is a bet I can't afford to lose."

"You've got that right!" Hammer sputtered, still unable to believe that Sparrow had agreed to it. "I swear Sparrow, of all the foolhardy-"

"Not helping!" Sparrow interrupted with a groan, sitting down heavily on the side of her bed. "It's going to be difficult being nice to Reaver, but I can't fail."

"Sparrow, Reaver is going to make himself even more of an ass tomorrow just so he can try to get you to slip up. He's only after one thing," Hammer said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"Well, I'll only have to deal with him in the evening after I come back from working at the tavern," Sparrow said, feeling a bit of relief.

That relief quickly vanished the next morning.

"Reaver?! What are you doing here?!" Sparrow squeaked upon seeing him enter the tavern the next day.

"I'm here for a drink, my dear girl," Reaver laughed, walking right up to the counter and attracting the attention of many of the female patrons. "What else does one do at a tavern?" Reaver's eyes went up to the ceiling thoughtfully for a moment before he opened his mouth to say exactly what other things there were to do at a tavern, but Sparrow quickly interrupted him.

"Reaver, this is cheating!" she complained, keeping her anger in check.

"Our bet didn't include rules so there is nothing awry with my being here," Reaver said in that superior voice of his as he leaned against the bar counter, tossing a few of the bar wenches charming grins. He turned his attention back to Sparrow. "Give me the strongest thing you've got, saucy bar wench."

Sparrow wanted to say that the strongest thing she could give him was a knuckle sandwich, but that would make her lose the bet. So she just bit her tongue and nodded saying, "Fine."

As she poured him his drink she noticed some of the female patrons approaching Reaver out of the corner of her eye, and by the looks of it Reaver was welcoming their presence with open arms.

"_Damn it all_," she thought to herself. "_He's really going to try and make me lose my temper, isn't he?"_

Once the tankard was full and had a nice head on it, Sparrow placed it down on the counter and slid it town towards Reaver.

"Enjoy," she muttered through clenched teeth.

Reaver, who now had a buxom girl on his lap, took the drink and looked over at Sparrow, a smirk slowly forming on his lips when he noticed that she was looking very fidgety. However, he found that her fidgeting was. . . distracting. His intense eyes remained on her, watching her graceful movements as she worked behind the bar counter, obviously trying to ignore him. The smirk left his face as he watched her, replaced by an entranced look. Sparrow really was lovely. He had never actually _looked _at her before. He had always noticed her physical appeal, but he had never noticed how appealing she really was when he actually got to know her. She was a proud, quiet, yet fiery woman with a chip on her shoulder due to her past. Her past. . . That was probably one of the only things Reaver didn't know about her. She never talked about it. All he knew was that she was raised by gypsies, which was pretty obvious because of the way she dressed and moved. Her clothes were made of exotic, yet cheap materials, and she walked with a certain confident swing to her hips.

"Well, if you're going to stare at her and ignore me then maybe you'd prefer to have _her _on your lap!" Reaver's eyes were torn away from Sparrow at the sound of the pouting wench who still sat in his lap.

"What?" he asked, obviously distracted, his eyes once again going back over to Sparrow.

"Oh, never mind!" The weight and warmth left Reaver's lap, but he hardly noticed, nor did he care. He had originally come to bother Sparrow and make her lose her temper with him, but his eyes seemed to have their own ideas.

After a few moments more of ogling, Sparrow turned to face him, hands on her hips.

"Do you need something?" she asked, her cheeks aflame. His staring was really starting to unnerve her.

"No, no, nothing at all, my dear!" Reaver said with a charming smile which, much to Sparrow's dismay, made her stomach squirm. "I'm just enjoying the view."

"_I can see that_," Sparrow huffed to herself, wishing he would just leave. It was distracting to have him sitting there and staring at her.

The day wore on and Reaver didn't move from his seat. He just drank and continued to watch Sparrow as she worked. Sparrow meanwhile was just about ready to strangle him. A permanent blush had been upon her cheeks the whole time, which led to some customers giving her odd looks. She was ever so thankful when the barkeeper told her she could go home early. She marched home with Chance bounding along ahead of her, and Reaver on her heels.

Suddenly, she just snapped, unable to take it any longer.

"Reaver!" she barked, whirling around and facing him, which nearly caused him to bump into her. Her eyes were flashing angrily. "Will you cut it out with that annoying staring! I'm not an exhibit on display! Keep your eyes to yourself!"

The two of them just stared at each other in silence after that, Sparrow panting and Reaver looking mildly surprised. Sparrow felt horror begin to creep up her spine when she saw a wicked grin spreading across Reaver's face.

"I win," he said simply, his eyes travelling up and down Sparrow's body briefly. Before Sparrow could protest Reaver raised a hand to caress her cheek and said, "Meet me in my room at sunset." He bent down to whisper in her ear, his lips lightly touching her sensitive skin. "I look forward to your arrival." He then walked past her, looking ever so smug.

Sparrow just stood there, unable to believe what had just happened. She had lost the bet, and now she had to honour it. Sparrow bit her lip and wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to find solace. She should never have made that bet with him.

* * *

At sundown Sparrow found herself staring at Reaver's bedroom door. She wasn't really going to go through with this was she? No, of course not. She was going to try to talk Reaver out of it. She wasn't ready for this kind of thing. She wasn't experienced at it like Reaver was. Taking a deep breath, she raised a shaking hand and knocked weakly on the door four times. The door almost immediately opened, and she was quickly pulled into the room by a very dashing-looking Reaver.

"Reaver, wait I-" Sparrow started, however Reaver held up a hand to silence her, going to close the door.

"Do not say another word, my dear" he said, walking around her so he could face her, hands clasped behind his back. "There is a little change I'd like to make in our bet."

Sparrow raised an eyebrow curiously and hopefully. "And that is. . .?"

"We're going to have a threesome!" Reaver said, clapping his hands together excitedly. Upon seeing the look of utter horror on Sparrow's face he burst out laughing. "I jest, Sparrow! Do not look so horrified!"

"Don't scare me like that!" Sparrow scolded him, now trying to calm her rapid heartbeat. "I'm nervous enough as it is. Actually, about the bet. . ."

"Hold on there a minute, Sparrow," Reaver said, placing a hand on her slender shoulder. "I have made a change to the bet, so let me tell you what it really is. Though you may find it less agreeable compared to sleeping with me."

"What is it?" Sparrow asked, narrowing her eyes. "Do I have to take that seal thing to the Shadow Court again?"

Reaver shook his head. "No. You must tell me about your past. Everything about it. Don't leave out any juicy details. I want to know what events shaped you into the _charming _young lady you are now."

"Wait. . . you want me to tell you about my past instead of sleeping with you?" Sparrow's mouth dropped open. She felt a wave of relief wash over her, but was suspicious of his intentions. "Have you taken a blow to the head or something?"

Reaver laughed merrily. "Not at all! Though my mother did drop me on my head when I was an infant. That is beside the point, however. Let's just say I can tell you are not ready for physical intimacy. It's not any fun when one is unwilling. Ruins the mood. And as surprising as it may seem, I want to hear about your past. You know the vague details of my past, which leaves me at a bit of a disadvantage. I think I should use this bet opportunity a little more wisely. You _will_ sleep with me one day, there is no doubt of that, but I doubt you will ever tell me about your past freely." Reaver smiled slyly at her.

"You are incorrigible," Sparrow grumbled before letting out a sigh. "Okay, fine. I'll tell you about my past."

"Before you start. . . where's Hammer?" Reaver asked, not wanting them to be interrupted by the warrior monk.

"She's sleeping, so she won't bother us," Sparrow said, sitting down on the edge of the bed while Reaver stood by the fireplace, resting an arm on the mantle.

"Ready when you are," he said, taking a goblet of wine into his left hand.

"Well, ah, let's see," Sparrow brought a hand to her temple as she thought back to her childhood. "Where to begin. . ."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

_Sparrow's Past_

* * *

"I was born in a small farm outside of Bowerstone. I had an older sister named Rose, who spent a great deal of her time looking after me. Most of the time our parents were away researching. . . whatever it was they researched." There was a faraway and almost pained expression on Sparrow's face as she spoke, as if she had gone back and was reliving the feelings she had experienced all those years ago. "One day they. . . they just didn't come back. Rose and I were left to fend for ourselves on that farm. Pretty soon we had to leave it to go and live in the streets of Bowerstone. We just couldn't live on the farm anymore. We were out of food, and we just couldn't seem to keep the house properly looked after. So, one morning, Rose took me to Bowerstone, our 'new home'. It never really felt like home, but to tell you the truth," Sparrow sighed, " to me home was wherever Rose was."

"What about your parents? Did you ever see them again?" Reaver asked, seemingly curious, his eyes not moving from her.

"No. Not that it mattered; I wasn't close to them. It's impossible to be close to someone when they're always gone," Sparrow said, folding her arms. "Anyways, Rose and I lived on the streets in poverty. Then. . . then came the day where it all began." A haunted look appeared in Sparrow's eyes now. "There was a travelling merchant. Rose and I stood by and listened to him advertise whatever he was selling. He mentioned a magical music box, and that caught both of our attentions. He said that whoever purchased it would get to make one wish and have it come true. Well, Rose thought that was complete rubbish until a gypsy woman, who just happened to be Theresa, chided her gently for her lack of belief in magic. I remember being in awe of her. She seemed so old and wise. If someone that wise believed in magic, then it must be true! Well, that's what my young mind thought. Even Rose was swayed by Theresa's words. So, we both started scrounging around for money, and while we were doing that I met up with Chance for the first time I might add. We needed five gold pieces to buy the magic music box."

"I take it you managed to buy it?" Reaver said, shifting his weight to his other foot as he continued listening intently to her story.

"Yes, and on the same day too," Sparrow continued, her eyes still holding onto that haunted look. "We bought the music box and, well, Rose made a wish. She wished that we could live in a castle." At this point Sparrow smiled fondly as she remembered her sister. "She always wanted to live in a castle, even when we lived on the farm, but her wish became more desperate when we lived on the streets of Bowerstone."

"How old were you when all this happened?" Reaver questioned, still seeming to be genuinely curious.

Sparrow furrowed her brow. "I was eight years old." She was then quiet for a moment before speaking up again. "Anyways, ah, where was I? Right, we had just bought the music box and Rose wished to live in a castle." She cleared her throat. "Well the music box glowed and then kinda. . . well, disappeared."

Reaver snorted and Sparrow shot him a small glare. "It wasn't funny."

"Sounds like you were conned," Reaver said with a smirk.

"We weren't conned! The music box worked!" Sparrow huffed before she faltered. "Well, sort of. . . After the music box disappeared we went to bed, since it was sundown. We were disappointed, but there was nothing we could do about it. However, very early the next morning, we were awakened by some guards from Lord Lucien's castle. They told us that Lucien wanted to see us. You can imagine we were quite thrilled. The music box had worked and we were going to live in a castle, oh joy." Sparrow laughed mirthlessly. "I swear, I would've been happy just living on the streets of Bowerstone my whole life if I had known what was going to happen to her. . . to us."

She took a deep breath before continuing. "We arrived at the castle and were shown to Lucien's study where he was pouring over old documents and such. He asked us some questions about the music box, and apparently he was amazed that we had managed to get it to work. He asked what we had wished for and Rose told him that we had wished to live in a castle. He replied that it could be arranged. Rose looked so. . . so _happy _when he said that. . ." Sparrow's eyes were beginning to shine with tears. Reaver couldn't see them, but he could hear it in her voice. She was trying to keep from breaking down. "He told us to go stand in the circle, which looked like old runes on a slightly raised platform and he said. . . he said it wasn't going to hurt us. So, we did as he asked, completely trusting and innocent." Sparrow wrapped her arms around her shoulders and shivered violently.

Reaver watched her, his expression one of worry. He had never seen her this upset before.

"The circle lit up, just like it did on Hero Hill, if you remember," Sparrow said, desperately trying to keep from breaking down completely. It had been years since the incident had happened, but its memory still haunted her. It had been a traumatic experience for a child. It had been one of the turning points in her life. "Lucien then called us 'heroes', but not one of the three. Of course you know my sister and I were descendants of the hero who bound the three, strength, will, and skill, together. He began hastily looking through his notes and documents, and the anxious way he did it made both Rose and I feel uneasy. Then when he turned and pointed the pistol at Rose... things seemed to go in slow motion. He shot her in cold blood, right in front of me.. and then..." Sparrow took a deep breath to steady her shaking voice. "He shot me, right in the heart. The impact of the bullet hitting my small body sent me smashing through the window and into the village below. I remember this sharp...burning pain in my chest as I fell, but I blacked out when my head hit the roof of a house on my way down. I can't remember a single thing after that. The next thing I remember is feeling a rough tongue licking my hand, and the familiar face of Chance looking at me with a worried expression. I was safely tucked in a bed in some sort of gypsy caravan. My chest and head were bandaged and I felt sick, completely drained of energy." Sparrow wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, finally able to control herself. "Theresa entered the caravan shortly after I awoke and explained to me what happened, who she was, and where I was. She said she had saved me from death and brought me back to her gypsy camp which was out near Bower Lake. She then began to fill my head with thoughts of revenge against Lucien for what he had dome to me... and Rose. Being a naive child, I consented to training my self for that purpose. I wanted to get back at Lucien for what he did."

"Well that's understandable. I would have done the same thing," Reaver scoffed.

Sparrow looked at him over her shoulder. "Oh I don't doubt that. Now be quiet and let me continue." She smiled when she suddenly heard Chance whining at the door. She got up to let him in, despite Reaver's protests.

"He'll get his mutt hair all over my room!" Reaver huffed, watching the dog with distaste as he trotted into the room happily and then lay down at Sparrow's feet.

"Oh be a man, Reaver," Sparrow said, rolling her eyes. She reached down to stroke Chance's head. "This guy has been with me through thick and thin, and he's a part of my past so he should be allowed in here. Now..where was I... Ah yes, Theresa began training me so that I could be a formidable opponent for Lucien when I finally got to meet up with him again to kill him."

"What kind of training did you do?" Reaver asked.

"Well, lots of running that's for sure. I needed a good endurance, which proved useful when I actually began my journey searching for the other three heroes. She also taught me how to handle a sword and pistol... though I never really got the hang of firing a pistol." Reaver snorted and Sparrow sent him a glare. "Well excuse me! I can never fire a pistol properly because of what Lucien did to Rose and I! I was a traumatized person!"

"Was? So, you can fire a pistol with no problem now?"

Sparrow hesitated and then looked down at her hands. "Well... not exactly.. but it doesn't matter anyways! I prefer my master longsword and my Will powers. Now, stop interrupting or this story is going to take all night. So, Theresa trained me and I grew up all confident and determined. When I was eighteen, Theresa finally deemed me ready to begin my journey. She sent me to the Heroes Guild where I finished my training. I had with me the seal for the Guild door, and as long as I held the seal Theresa could communicate with me at all times."

"That's kind of creepy," Reaver commented.

Sparrow shrugged. "It didn't bother me. Anyways, she told me to travel to Bowerstone, and that she would meet me there. So, I did. She brought my attention to the Tattered Spire, telling me that Lucien lived there and was currently rebuilding the Spire. She said that in order to defeat Lucien I needed to find the Hero of Strength, the Hero of Will, and the Hero of Skill. Well, I was young and reckless, so of course I had no problem with running all over Albion searching for these Heroes.

"So, with Chance as my only companion, I began my search for Hammer. When I met her she didn't like being called Hammer. She was Sister Hannah, adopted daughter of the abbot in the Temple of Light. Theresa called her a 'pacifist monk' and told me that I needed to find some way to get her to break out of her shell. Well, turns out Lucien did that for me. One of his men killed her father, which enraged her. From then on we called her Hammer, and she agreed to help us in our fight against Lucien.

"Next Hero I was sent to recruit was Garth, who resided in Brightwood Tower. Well, I went there to fetch him, but Lucien beat me to it. His Commandant captured Garth and took him to the Tattered Spire. So Theresa told me that I must get into the Tattered Spire to save Garth. After bribing Lucien's old butler, we managed to get our hands on Lucien's diary. Theresa looked through it and said Lucien was recruiting warriors from the Crucible in Westcliff. I had to compete and win so that he would recruit me."

"Let me guess: you competed and you won. Correct?" Reaver said, taking a seat by the fire.

"Of course," Sparrow said with a nod. "I won and I was recruited by Lucien's men. I was brought over to the Spire, and I had to leave Chance and all my possession with Hammer." At this point Sparrow gave Chance a fond pat on the head, glad that he was still by her side. "I spent ten years working at the Spire before I finally managed to save Garth. Well, I guess it would be more appropriate to say he saved me. Anyways, we escaped and he decided to join our cause to defeat Lucien. After that-"

"Wait a second!" Reaver interrupted. "Aren't you going to tell me what it was like working at the Spire? You did spend, how long? Ten years there."

Images of the Commandant flashed through Sparrow's mind and she shivered. "Please, Reaver, I don't want to talk about it. Nothing of great significance happened anyway."

"If nothing of great significance happened then, how come you don't want to talk about it?" Reaver countered.

"B-because. . . it was an upsetting thing, working there! That's all! The starving prisoners and everything was just so awful. Can we move on, please? After Garth joined our cause-"

"Something happened at the Spire," Reaver interrupted again, moving away from the mantle and walking over so that he was standing in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest. "Tell me."

At first Reaver didn't think she was going to answer. She just sat there with her head down, clenching her fists in her lap. He was prepared for her to start yelling at him any second, but surprisingly enough, she didn't.

Sparrow looked up at him with a pained expression. "I was the Commandant's. . . play thing, I guess you would call it."

Usually a confession like that wouldn't shock Reaver, or make him feel pity at all. But certain things had seemed to change about him ever since Sparrow had started living with him. She was revealing a side of him that had been supposedly gone for hundreds of years. He felt great anger at this revelation. Not anger at Sparrow, anger at that Commandant.

"Did he. . ." Reaver fought to keep the anger out of his voice. "Did he ever rape you?"

The question was blunt, but Sparrow didn't mind. Reaver was always blunt with his questions. "No," she said, swallowing thickly. "Thankfully Lucien wouldn't allow any of that. I was just kept in his room. I felt like a prize trophy or something, and it was awful. I am actually surprised I left that place with my virginity still intact."

"For now," Reaver muttered under his breath, but loud enough for Sparrow to hear. She looked up at him quickly with a glare.

"And what do you mean by that, mister?" she huffed.

Reaver gave her one of his charming smiles. "Nothing at all, my dear!" he said innocently. "Please continue." He sat down beside her on the bed this time, his face searching hers. Sparrow, however, kept her gaze off of him.

"After Garth had joined our cause I was told to go searching for you. Hammer had received information about you at a tavern. Big surprise there. She said that you were a pirate, an excellent marksman, and that you took ships by shooting the captain from a great distance, which scared the crews into surrendering."

Reaver straightened his shoulders proudly and Sparrow smirked. "At the time I was very impressed and eager to meet you. The thought that you were actually a self-absorbed son-of-a-bitch never entered my mind. Boy, was I in for a surprise."

Reaver pouted this time which forced Sparrow to try and hide a grin. "Garth, Hammer, and I travelled to Brightwood Tower, planning on using the cullis gate there to transport ourselves to Bloodstone. Things didn't go as planned though. Lucien's men were at the Tower, and they were looking for Garth and myself. We managed to fight our way through them, but when we got to the cullis gate it only managed to transport Chance and myself to the Wraithmarsh, and it just sent Garth and Hammer back to the Guild. So, after fighting my way through hollow men and banshees, I finally made it to Bloodstone." Sparrow looked at Reaver out of the corner of her eye. "I'm pretty sure you know what happened next."

"Oh yes, I remember it as if it were yesterday!" Reaver said with a smirk, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "I was in the middle of being sculpted on this fine, and rather expensive, piece of rock, when suddenly this mud-covered young lady comes waltzing right into my study like she owns the place. You can imagine my great surprise. Nevertheless, I greeted her jovially and I could tell by the look on her face she liked what she was seeing." Reaver gave Sparrow a lewd wink and she flushed, folding her arms across her chest.

"So I was young and naive. Give me a break," she grumbled. "In my defence, you are quite handsome and only an idiot would think otherwise."

"You're not bad-looking yourself, my dear," Reaver said, smirking as he took her hand and kissed it. She quickly withdrew her hand, however, looking flustered. Reaver just continued smirking and moved closer to her, lowering his face so that she could feel his hot breath on her neck. "Then this lovely mud-covered warrior proceeded to flirt with me. She said-"

"I know what I said!" Sparrow said, her face turning beat red as she stood up and walked over to the door to lean her back against it. "Let's move on please. You said that I wasn't famous enough to talk with you. So, I went out and did everything I could to become more well known in Bloodstone. Then you double-crossed me! I'm still pretty mad about that!"

Reaver held up his hands defensively. "Now now, dear, calm yourself down! You still have your youth, so there is nothing to be upset about! It's all water under the bridge."

"I sacrificed the youth of another instead! I was selfish! I'm as bad as you!" Sparrow lamented, remembering the cries of the girl as her age had been drained away. "She. . . she was so innocent. She was in the Shadow Court by complete accident. She didn't deserve that. My pride and vanity-"

"Oh for the love of. . . Sparrow, get over it," Reaver scoffed. "It won't do you any good to dwell on these things. Just forget it and move on with your life."

"Oh? I take it that's what you do isn't it?" Sparrow replied bitterly. "Apparently it doesn't work since you still have nightmares about the destruction of Oakvale."

Reaver frowned. "Yes, I occasionally have those nightmares. However, they are only dreams and I try to not let them bother me. You should do the same. Forget the bad parts of your past and concentrate on the future. That's my motto."

"I thought your motto was 'live forever, drink alcohol, and have lots of sex'," Sparrow scoffed, narrowing her eyes on him.

"Hmm, not bad actually. Yes, that's my new motto!" Reaver said with a grin.

"Oh, you're hopeless!" Sparrow groaned.

"Guilty as charged," Reaver said with a wink.

"Well, since you pretty much know the rest of my past I'll be going now," Sparrow said, turning to open the door and leave the room.

"Hey now, wait a moment!" Reaver said, quickly going over to her and grabbing her by the arm. "Tell me what you did while I was in Samarkand."

Sparrow frowned a little. "I continued doing good deeds in an attempt to clear my conscience of the selfish things I did in the past. When I had enough money I bought Bloodstone Manor, and I continued trying to erase the horrible things I had done. Nothing helped though. Nothing. The guilt is still there, and it won't leave no matter how much I want it to."

"Don't dwell on your past," Reaver said, tapping Sparrow's nose. "It works."

Sparrow didn't look so sure. "Well, I'll try, though I don't think it's going to work."

"Take it from someone who has a. . . more colourful past then you do," Reaver said with a wry smile.

Sparrow looked at him for a moment and then nodded slowly. "Okay. Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight, my dear," Reaver said in replied, bending down and placing a light kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Pleasant dreams," he added with a suggestive smirk.

Sparrow's cheeks were tinged pink as she scowled at him and then turned, opening the door and heading out into the hallway.

"Oh, one more thing, Sparrow," Reaver said, causing her to look back at him over her shoulder as he stood in the doorway of his room. "Sparrow isn't the name your parents christened you with, is it?"

"It's a nickname Rose gave to me, and I guess it just. . . kinda stuck," Sparrow answered him, raising an eyebrow. "Reaver isn't your real name either."

"My dear, Reaver is my real name."

"Let me rephrase that," Sparrow sighed, rolling her eyes. "'Reaver' is not the name your parents gave you."

"No. Though if they had any sense, it would've been."

"Well, how about you tell me your birth name, and then I will tell you mine," Sparrow offered.

"Alright, I suppose I see no harm in it. Ladies first," Reaver said with an inclination of his head.

"Trina. My name is Trina Breckenridge," Sparrow said, and Reaver was a little surprised by her forthcomingness. "Not many people know that. Nobody has called me Trina since my parents died. It even sounds strange to my own ears." She shook her head and looked expectantly at Reaver. "Your turn."

"Trina is a beautiful name," Reaver said with a slight smile. "And 'Trina _Breckenridge'_ rolls off the tongue so nicely. A shame you choose a silly bird's name as your title instead."

Sparrow flushed at the unexpected compliment. "I call myself Sparrow in honour of my sister, alright? But enough of that, you need to tell me your birth name now."

"Very well. I was once called Aaron Churchhill, and you are now the only person, other than myself of course, who knows that." Reaver looked at Sparrow pointedly. "Let's keep it that way, hmm?"

"My lips are sealed, don't you worry," Sparrow nodded. She herself was rather surprised her had divulged that information to her. "Goodnight, Reaver."

Reaver smiled, his eyes locked on hers. "Goodnight, Trina."

Sparrow couldn't help but smile back as he closed the door, and she was still smiling as she fell asleep that night.

* * *

**A/N: **_This chapter was really difficult to work on. :P I don't like the idea of Sparrow being the Commandant's 'play thing' anymore, it seems so cliche! But, I kinda have to leave it in there for the plot. Ah well._

_The whole 'revealing of the names' bit at the end is completely new. Though this particular version of Sparrow isn't my canon character, I gave her the same name._

_Sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes. . . I really struggled with editing this chapter for some reason. _


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

_Never Tease Reaver_

* * *

Things seemed to be very uneventful over the next few days. Sparrow went to work, as usual, and then she would come home and spend the rest of her night with Hammer. Apparently she had really missed the female company.

Reaver, meanwhile, was getting restless and feeling very deprived. He needed to do something to liven things up, or else he feared he'd go mad with boredom. Feeling a bit daring, Reaver decided to throw another party. Sparrow would freak out, but it would be so worth it to see her get all hot and bothered.

"Oh Sparrow, dearest!" Reaver called up the stairs. He received a somewhat irritated 'what?!' in return. "I'm going to be throwing a party tonight. . ." Reaver hesitated for a moment when a sudden idea came to mind. "And guess what? You're going to be the guest of honour!"

Silence.

"Sparrow? Did you hear me?" Reaver called up, waiting for her to throw some kind of fit, or come storming down the stairs in protest.

"Yes, I heard you!" came Sparrow's voice, which surprisingly enough, didn't sound angry at all. "That's fine!"

"I. . . ah, it is?" Reaver raised his eyebrows. Well, this certainly was an interesting turn of events. Maybe Sparrow was just as bored as he was, and was willing to try anything to break the monotonous flow of her life. "Well then. . . superb! The party will be starting at eight o'clock tonight, so don't be late!"

"I _live_ here, Reaver. How could I possibly be late?" Sparrow scoffed from up in her room.

"Touche," Reaver murmured before tossing a suspicious look up the stairs, and then heading back to his study. He saw Marielle there, dusting the mantle. He smiled charmingly and she flushed, looking away in a shy manner.

"Good morning, Reaver sir," she said, hastily continuing with her dusting.

"Marielle, my dear girl," Reaver said, walking right up to her so that there was only about an inch of space between them. "I need you and Lisa to write out invitations to a party I'm having tonight in lovely Sparrow's honour. Can you do that for me?" He gave her one of his infamous 'melt-at-the-knees' smiles.

Marielle's knees buckled a bit and she stammered before answering properly. "O-of course, sir. We will get on it right away!" She then quickly left the room, glancing back at Reaver longingly before she left.

Reaver watched her go and then turned to face the fireplace, chuckling quietly to himself. He spent the next few hours admiring himself in a mirror, cleaning his pistol, and drinking wine. The whole time, however, he kept glancing towards the door of his study as if expecting Sparrow to come waltzing in any minute, just like she had done when he first met her.

As Reaver finished off the last dregs of his wine his ears picked up the strange sound of singing coming from one of the upstairs rooms. It was faint, but he could definitely tell it was singing. Curiosity got the better of him and he left his study, heading up the stairs. The singing became louder as he ventured down the hallway and he was greatly surprised that it came from Sparrow's room, and that it sounded like Sparrow was the one whom the enchanting melody was coming from. He slowly approached the door which was open just a crack, and listened in amazement.

_I will stay forever here to wait for your love_

_If I could change the currents of our lives_

_To make the river flow where it's run dry_

_To be a prodigal of father time_

_Then I would see you tonight_

_Lonely finds me_

_One day you will come_

_But I'll wait for love's sake_

_One day to me, love_

When Sparrow finished her song Reaver heard clapping, which was probably coming from Hammer. Her voice confirmed it.

"Oh! That was beautiful Sparrow!" she said enthusiastically. "You have a lovely singing voice!" Reaver knew that Sparrow was probably blushing about now.

"You really think so?" came Sparrow's voice. "You know, when I was younger I wanted to be a singer."

_"She wanted to be a singer? How very interesting. . ."_ Reaver thought to himself, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "_I would never have guessed." _

"I think you still have a chance at being a singer, Sparrow," Hammer said. "You're still young, and Albion isn't in need of saving anymore."

Reaver heard Sparrow sigh. "Albion is always in need of saving, Hammer. It's never finished. I'm a hero, and it's my job to keep Albion safe. I just. . . I wouldn't be able to settle down and just live a normal life."

"But, you're living a normal life right now aren't you?" Hammer sounded slightly confused.

Sparrow chuckled. "Hammer, would you consider living with Reaver a _normal_ life?"

Reaver smirked to himself and then heard Hammer chuckle as well. "I guess not. But still, you haven't been out killing hobbes or bandits. You've just been living in a house and going to work every day. I mean, that's normal enough right?"

"I . . I haven't exactly been working at the tavern every day you know," Sparrow said, and Reaver could hear her falter a bit. "I. . . um, I've been also accepting bounties and getting paid for that too. I've got to stay in shape you know." At this point Reaver imagined Sparrow flexing her muscles and he almost snorted in amusement. "I always make sure to heal any wounds I have before I return to the Manor. I don't want Reaver to start nagging me about keeping blood off his furniture and stuff like that."

"So, you really haven't been able to settle down have you?" Hammer asked, her tone incredulous.

"No, I haven't. I'm bothered by certain things I've done in the past. I've got to keep myself 'busy', so to speak, so that I won't dwell on it." When Sparrow said those words Reaver's mind began whirling. That had been what he had planned to do after the destruction of Oakvale. Change his identity, tweak his personality, and keep himself busy so that he wouldn't have a chance to think about it. However, Sparrow was keeping herself busy in a completely different way then he had. He had slept with prostitutes, thrown wild parties, joined a pirates' crew, and worked his way up to infamous Pirate Lord. Instead of striving to become a better person, he had turned himself into a worse one, and it all went downhill from there. Sparrow. . . she was doing good deeds, tracking down pirates and bandits, and helping people who were in need of help. Her definition of busy was practically the polar opposite of his.

Reaver's thoughts were scattered when Sparrow spoke again, "Anyways, I'd rather not talk about it. I have some preparing to do for Reaver's party."

"Okay," came Hammer's voice. "I'll leave you to it then. I'm going down to the tavern for the rest of the day. I'd rather not attend one of Reaver's bashes. I'm not much of a party person anyways."

Reaver quickly scooted down the hallway and into his room, waiting for Hammer to pass by and go down the stairs before he ventured out again and knocked on Sparrow's bedroom door, which was now closed.

"What?" Sparrow asked from the other side.

"It's me, dearest," Reaver said in a cheerful tone. "I was just wondering what you are up to, cooped up in there?" He eagerly awaited her answer.

"It's none of your business," Sparrow replied coldly.

One minute she was vulnerable, the next minute she was the ice queen again. Reaver sighed. "Oh very well." He clasped his hands behind his back and headed down the stairs, figuring he might as well get the maids to start the preparations for the party.

* * *

Now Sparrow knew why she never curled her hair; it was a pain in the backside. She had just spent the last thirty minutes curling her hair to perfection. Running her hand through her dark brown tresses to organize them a bit, she let out a satisfied sigh and then went over to her closet to retrieve the dress she had bought that day. It was not easy sneaking out of the house to buy it, but luckily she had indeed managed to do it without Reaver knowing. The dress had two layers to it: a simple black chemise-like piece, and a red dress to go overtop. The black part had thin straps, no sleeves, and a v-neck. All very simple, but elegant. The red part of the dress was pretty much the same except it had thinner straps and a wider v-neck (so you could see the black underneath), but it also tightened in the middle with laces on the front like a corset. The skirt clung to her hips sensually and then flared out, covering her feet which wore matching black sandals.

After arranging her dress to her liking, Sparrow applied her make-up: black eyeliner, eyeshadow, and red lipstick.

There then came a knock at the door and Sparrow hoped it wasn't Reaver.

"Who is it?" she asked, closing up her lipstick and putting it away in its proper drawer.

"It's Lisa, Sparrow," came the reply from the other side of the door.

"Oh, come on in." Sparrow quickly went over and unlocked the door so that Lisa could enter.

Lisa stepped into the room and blinked as soon as her eyes landed on Sparrow, her jaw nearly dropping. "S-Sparrow? Is that you?"

Sparrow chuckled and folded her arms a little self consciously. "Yeah, it's me. Is it really that surprising to see me dressed up?"

"Well, yeah! Especially with your hair curled like that!" Lisa still looked in awe. "Why are you dressed up anyway? You didn't fuss with yourself this much at the first party you went to."

"Well, I'm the_ guest of honour_ this time, so I figured I should do something special," Sparrow shrugged.

Lisa eyed Sparrow somewhat suspiciously. "You're not trying to get Reaver's attention are you?"

Sparrow flushed and raised her shoulders a bit, her arms still crossed. "N-no! Of course not! I practically get his attention every day, so why would I bother trying to get his attention tonight?"

"Come on, Sparrow, this isn't like you at all," Lisa said, hands on her hips. "Tell me the _real_ reason why you're looking so stunning tonight."

Sparrow hesitated and then she grabbed Lisa by the arm, dragging her further into the room before closing and locking the door. Swallowing silently she turned to face the maid, her expression determined.

"I'm going to teach Reaver a lesson tonight," she said simply.

Lisa looked curious. "How are you going to do that?"

"I'm going to flirt with every guy at this party, just to make Reaver jealous," Sparrow explained with a smirk. "I'm sick and tired of him gloating at me while surrounded by beautiful women. He knows that bugs me, so I need to teach him a good lesson and give him yet another taste of his own bitter medicine."

"Ooh, I see," Lisa said with a grin. "Well then, don't let me stop you. I shall watch your antics from afar while I serve the guests at the party."

Sparrow smiled and then looked over at her clock, noticing that it was ten minutes until eight o'clock. She could hear a faint commotion downstairs, which meant that guests had already started arriving.

"Well," she said, quickly smoothing out her skirt, "I guess I had better get down there. After you." She motioned for Lisa to leave the room first and she then followed after with Chance on her heels, locking her door behind her and slipping the key into her bodice for safe keeping.

Taking a deep and calming breath, Sparrow headed down the stairs after Lisa. By the look of the crowd of guests at the bottom of the stairs this party was going to be even bigger than the one Reaver held in honour of Marielle and Lisa. Many an eye turned to look at Sparrow as she made her way through the crowds, smiling politely, and somewhat seductively at males, which she found hard to do. She was worried she might not be able to keep up this charming act, and what if her plan backfired on her? Then what? She quickly pushed those worries from her mind when she heard the sound of Reaver's jovial voice coming from over by the fireplace in his study like usual. A sudden shyness took hold of Sparrow at the sound of his voice and she wrung her hands nervously, biting her lip.

_"Oh, get a hold of yourself!" _her inner self snapped at her. Shaking her head, Sparrow continued walking through the crowd confidently even though she still felt slightly on edge.

"Now, where is my guest of honour?" came Reaver's voice, still over by the mantle. "Has anyone seen her?"

Sparrow stopped in her step, hesitating. Should she reveal herself to him? Or should she just make him search for her? She chose the latter. She continued through the crowd, still throwing smiles to the men but not talking to any of them. Suddenly, she felt an arm grab her from behind and she was pulled backwards, feeling her back pressed up against a firm man's chest. She immediately knew who it was. Before she could say anything she felt his hot breath on her neck and she heard him lick his lips which sounded thunderous in her ears.

"There you are, my little minx," he whispered huskily. "My my, you look particularly enticing tonight. . ."

"Reaver, get off me," Sparrow said, pulling away from him.

"You dress up like that and expect me to keep my hands to myself? Impossible, my dear," Reaver snorted, reaching over and grabbing her by the arm again, pulling her to his side this time.

"Reaver!" Sparrow protested again, giving him a small glare. "Control yourself, for Avo's sake!" How was she suppose to carry out her plan if he was going to be clinging to her all night long?

"Ah, but you are my guest of honour, which means you have to stay by my side all night long. Besides, I'm not about to share you with any other men in this room," he said, steering her over towards his usual place by the mantle.

"Wait! Reaver you can't. . . " Sparrow continued protesting as he practically dragged her along with him.. This was going to completely ruin her whole plan!

When he got to his destination, Reaver wrapped his arm around Sparrow's waist and held her firmly at his side while his fangirls once again crowded around him, seemingly not caring that he had one of his arms wrapped around Sparrow.

"Reaver, this is unwanted physical contact!" Sparrow hissed to him under her breath. "Let go of me!"

Reaver ignored her, and instead he merely tightened his grip.

"Reaver, I swear, if you do not let go of me this second I'll-" Sparrow was cut of by Reaver's hand covering her mouth.

"Hush, Sparrow," he told her with a smirk that could almost be described as playful.

Sparrow glared at him and pulled her mouth away from under his hand. "Fine!" She stood there quietly, looking pouty and tense. She had to search for some opportunity to escape from him.

As she stood there and listened to him talk about one of his many oh-so-amazing adventures at sea, she couldn't help but notice that he kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye. An unspoken tension hung between the two of them. Sparrow just stood there, trying to listen to what Reaver was saying in an attempt to distract herself. How in the world was she going to get herself out of this situation? She glanced around at her surroundings and spotted a young man watching her somewhat shyly. Well, maybe she could still try out her plan after all.

Completely ignoring that fact that Reaver still held her snugly against his side, Sparrow smiled charming at the young man whose cheeks turned slightly red. As soon as she did, she found herself being roughly passed over into Reaver's other arm so that she could no longer see the fellow she had smiled at. Reaver was certainly more observant then she thought. . . and possessive.

Sparrow scowled at Reaver. "I am not some ragdoll you can toss around whenever you'd like, Reaver!" she hissed at him.

As Reaver's fangirls laughed gayly at something he had said, he took the moment to whisper down to her, "Do not interact with the other men at this party."

That sudden unexpected 'order' made Sparrow smirk. "You sound jealous, Reaver."

Reaver snorted and gave Sparrow a sidelong glance. "I do not get _jealous, _my dear. Possessive, yes. Jealous, no."

A wicked idea began to seep into Sparrow's mind which made her smirk even more. This plan would be much better and easier to accomplish in her present situation than her former one. She watched for a moment as Reaver continued with his story.

"The infamous pirate captain then began gloating, and you all know how much I hate gloating. . ."

Sparrow reach up subtly and let her soft, warm breath caress the skin of his neck as she whispered, "You want me, and yet you can't have me. I can tell how frustrated you are. . ."

Reaver's breath hitched for a moment and he glanced at Sparrow, the hunger in his eyes apparent. However he quickly cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his fangirls. "So. . . ah, so I simply withdrew my pistol and shot him, and he was dead before he hit the ground. Then-"

"The sexual frustration is almost. . . _tangible, _wouldn't you say?" Sparrow continued to whisper, letting her lips lightly brush by his ear.

Now that made Reaver shutter involuntarily. He once again shot Sparrow a look that was caught between ordering her to stop and begging her to continue. However, his attention was quickly given back to his fangirls, and he tried to remain focussed on them. "And then I. . . ah. . asked the crew whether or not they. . . er, wanted to join their Captain in Davy Jones' Locker or if they. . ."

"I'm so close, and yet so far away," Sparrow whispered, really enjoying taunting him. It served him right! "Oh, how you long to ravish me right this moment. . ."

Reaver watched Sparrow out of the corner of his eye for a moment before looking back at his fans with a smile and saying, "Excuse me a moment."

Suddenly, without warning, he had Sparrow pinned against the wall. She hardly had any time to protest before his mouth was atop hers, giving her several lip-bruising kisses. Some other guests tried to join the passionate display, but surprisingly enough Reaver pushed them away. He continued his assault on the thoroughly shocked Sparrow.

After Reaver was done kissing the living daylights out of Sparrow he pulled away, panting and looking much more satisfied. He gave her a wolfish grin, trailing a finger down her jaw. "Now, are you going to behave yourself, my dear? Or do I have to teach you another lesson?"

Sparrow just stared at him, wide-eyed. Wait a minute, wasn't she suppose to be the one who was teaching _him _the lesson?! Her eyes slowly narrowed on him and her parted lips closed and frowned. "Reaver! You're insufferable!"

Reaver laughed, as did everybody else in the room, which caused Sparrow to flush. Had the whole party stopped just to watch Reaver snog her senseless? How humiliating!

As soon as Reaver stopped laughing he wagged a finger in Sparrow's face. "Dearest, I think you learned a lesson from this, have you not?"

Sparrow huffed. "Never dress up provocatively for parties?"

Reaver chuckled. "No, my dear girl. Never tease Reaver."

* * *

**A/N: **_The song Sparrow sings is 'One Day' by Trading Yesterday. _


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

_A Prostitute named Patty_

* * *

Later that night, after the party was over, Sparrow lay in her bed wide awake. Now that things had settled down, her mind seemed to be enjoying replaying that one particular part where Reaver had kissed her. It was starting to drive her crazy. At the time, she had been too shocked to do anything but let him kiss her, and it all happened so fast her brain just seemed to freeze up.

Sparrow groaned and rolled over, covering her head with one of her pillows. How was she suppose to get any sleep in this condition? Maybe a glass of milk would help. So, she crawled out from underneath her covers and pulled on a long shawl for modesty. She tiptoed from her room, not wanting to wake Chance.

As she softly closed the door behind herself she turned and ran face first into someone. For a split second she panicked and tried pulling herself away, but the person grabbed her roughly by the arms and she found herself looking up into Reaver's green eyes.

"Reaver!" Sparrow let out a breath of relief. "For heaven's sake! You nearly scared me to death. . ." She trailed off when she noticed his glazed-over eyes. Why, he was still half asleep. He must have been sleepwalking.

His eyes returned her gaze, unfocussed. "Sparrow? What are you doing here?"

Sparrow swallowed quietly and gently removed herself from his grasp. However as soon as she did he immediately grabbed for her again, as if finding comfort in touching her.

"Reaver, go back to bed," Sparrow said, carefully guiding him back over to his bedroom.

"Sparrow. . . I had a dream. . ." Reaver continued in his half-asleep mumbling. "You left. . . silly girl. . ."

"Well I'm not leaving yet. Go back to bed." As Sparrow took him into his bedroom she winced upon seeing other people in his bed. "Oh you're so hopeless," she sighed, sending him a small glare even though he was totally out of it. She didn't like the idea of helping him back into bed while there were other people there whom might wake up. So she led him back to her room.

"What's going on?" he murmured, leaning against her and smelling her hair. "Mmm. . ."

"H-hey, cut that out," Sparrow chided him gently, flushing. "Just get into bed." With some encouragement, Reaver climbed under the covers and promptly began snoring softly.

Sparrow watched him sleep for a moment, unaware of the fond smile that had slowly appeared on her face. She heard a small whine and looked over at Chance who lay by the fireplace. He was watching her curiously, looking from Reaver back over to her.

"It's okay, boy," Sparrow whispered, going over to him and crouching down, giving his head a pat. "Reaver can sleep there for the night." She then left the room to go and get her glass of milk.

When Sparrow came back to her room Reaver was still where she left him in her bed. Now, where was _she_ going to sleep? Her eyes wandered over to the empty side of the bed. She could always sleep there. Her eyes travelled over to Reaver for a second then back over to the other side of the bed. She slowly and casually made her way around the bed, very tempted to climb under the soft covers. Reaver was asleep, it was not like he'd try anything. Plus she usually woke up before he did so she would probably get out of bed before he woke up, and so he wouldn't even know she had been in bed with him.

_"It would be so ironic if he wakes up before me," _Sparrow thought to herself as she slipped under the covers. The feel of being in bed with Reaver suddenly sent a shiver of pleasure through her body. Being so close to someone felt good, especially since that someone was a good-looking man who was very interested in her.

_"Get a hold of yourself!" _she snapped at herself, shaking her head and sighing, turning so that her back was facing Reaver. She had to try to ignore him. After a good half hour of trying to get herself relaxed completely, Sparrow fell asleep.

* * *

"My my, don't tell me we had sex last night and I've forgotten all about it!"

Sparrow's eyes flew open, immediately waking from her light sleep at the sound of Reaver's groggy voice. She tensed when she became aware of his lean arms wrapped snugly around her and his face buried in the crook of her neck.

"GAAHH!" Sparrow quickly pulled away from him, falling out of bed in the process and landing on the floor with a 'thump'. She groaned and looked up at Reaver who was looking over the side of the bed at her with a smirk.

"I'm sorry, my dear, did I miss something last night?" He grinned wickedly.

Sparrow scowled at him. "No! You were sleepwalking so I let you sleep here since your bed was full! We didn't do anything!"

"Oh good," Reaver said with a dramatic breath of relief. "I was worried there for a moment. When I take away your virginity I want to be able to remember it!"

"I-I. . ." Sparrow stammered. "What makes you think _you're _the one who's going to take my virginity!? Hmm?!"

"Well, I don't mean to brag but. . ." Reaver gestured to himself. "Look at me! What woman doesn't want this masterpiece? Plus I know how crazy you are about me so. . ."

Sparrow opened and closed her mouth several times, her cheeks burning up. "Why. . .you. . . you narcissistic. . . jerk! As-sumptuous bastard! I'm not crazy about you!" As she said those words she pushed herself up to a sitting position and then stretched her aching muscles. As she was stretching Reaver suddenly slunk down on top of her, pinning her to the floor, his legs straddling her waist.

"Reaver!" Sparrow yelped in complete surprise.

"Oh, you're not crazy about me?" he purred, bending down and nuzzling her neck. "I think I can prove you wrong."

"Reaver! Get off me!" Sparrow growled, struggling in vain. He kept a firm grip on her. "You can't prove anything!"

"Can't I?" he whispered seductively, hot breath against her neck.

"I'm not crazy about you, but you sure do drive me crazy!" Sparrow said, letting out a sound that was somewhere between a frustrated growl and moan.

Reaver chuckled sensually, his thin lips barely an inch away from her lushes ones. "Don't fight it, Sparrow," he whispered, his voice thick and full of promise. "Give in to me. It's that simple."

"I won't," Sparrow choked out stubbornly.

"You will-" Reaver was cut off when he was sudden knocked off of Sparrow by Chance. "Damn mutt!" he growled, looking around for his beloved pistol while Sparrow quickly climbed up on unsteady legs.

"Good boy, Chance," Sparrow said to her loyal dog through her panting. She then looked over at Reaver with a glare. "Don't you even think about shooting Chance, or I can guarantee you 100% that I will never sleep with you as long as you live!"

Reaver looked over at her thoughtfully for a second before grinning smugly. "You mean at this moment you can't guarantee me 100% that you'll never sleep with me?"

Sparrow flushed and stammered. "W-what? No wait, that's not what I meant! I mean. . . oh forget it!" She then quickly fled from the room before Reaver could say another word.

* * *

"Oh by Avo," Sparrow groaned, placing her head in her hands. "What is wrong with me?"

She sat at the docks in the waterfront of Bloodstone, her feet dangling limply over the still water. Chance lay beside her, his head in her lap and his brown eyes looking up at her worriedly. Ever since Reaver had tried to seduce her she had this annoying and longing ache. She realized her body was craving intimate physical contact, and not just any physical contact, _Reaver's _physical contact.

"Oh Chance, he's really getting on my nerves," Sparrow grumbled, rubbing her temple as if she had a headache.

Chance let out a small whine and licked Sparrow's hand, offering her comfort.

"Thanks boy," Sparrow said weakly, giving her companion a small smile. With a sigh she climbed to her feet, and Chance did as well, wagging his tail as if hoping they would head off to take down some bandits or something. However Sparrow just continued to stare out to sea, biting her lip and furrowing her brow.

"Something wrong hun?"

Sparrow jumped in surprise and spun around to find herself facing a concerned-looking whore. "It's nothing," she grumbled, turning around to face the sea again.

"Is your lover lost at sea or something?" the prostitute continued to pry, moving beside Sparrow and squinting at the horizon.

Sparrow gave her an odd look. "No. I don't have a lover."

"What? A pretty thing like you doesn't have a man?" The girl looked genuinely shocked.

"I don't need one," Sparrow huffed, raising her chin. "They are nothing but trouble."

"You have a point there I suppose," the whore sighed. "This world would be better off with no men."

"If there were no men the human race would die off pretty quickly," Sparrow snorted.

"Oh yeah, that's true."

_"What an airhead," _Sparrow thought to herself, looking at the girl out of the corner of her eye, a little annoyed by her presence. "Don't you have work to do or something?"

"No, none right now. Business picks up near the end of the day," the girl explained. She then looked closely at Sparrow's face before exclaiming, "Why, you're the hero! Sparrow, right?!"

"Yeah."

"I'm Patty!" the girl said cheerfully.

_"Patty the Prostitute. Perfect," _Sparrow thought to herself, trying to hold back a laugh. "Nice to meet you, Patty. I guess," she said, before returning her gaze to the sea.

"You're having men troubles, aren't you?" Patty suddenly said after a moment of silence.

Sparrow nearly choked on her own spit in surprise. "How did you figure that out?"

"It's obvious, hun," Patty said with a light laugh. "You have the unmistakable look of a girl smitten."

"Smitten?! I'm not smitten!" Sparrow huffed indignantly. "I'm just. . . troubled about certain things."

"No, you're smitten," Patty said, hands on her hips. "I'm never wrong about these things."

"You've got a lot of nerve telling me-"

"You want some advice?"

"-what I. . . Huh?" Sparrow furrowed her brow. "Advice? Hah! Why should I take advice from a prostitute? You know nothing of love or. . . or whatever!"

"I know about men," Patty said with a smirk, grabbing Sparrow by her forearm. "Come with me."

"What? Go with you where?" Sparrow huffed, keeping herself rooted to the spot.

"Come with me to the tavern and I'll tell you some men tips," Patty said, tugging on her arm. "We can make a girls night of it!"

Sparrow wouldn't budge. "We can't have a girls night, because for one thing it isn't _night_. If you've got something to tell me you can tell it to me here, and let go!" She roughly tugged her arm out of Patty's grasp.

Patty let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh alright, fine. Be stubborn. First I need to know. . this guy you like, does he like you too?"

"He pursues me like a male dog pursues a female in season," Sparrow snorted. "And I don't like him!" she added quickly.

"Do you mind telling me who the special young gentleman is?" Patty inquired.

Sparrow laughed out loud. "He's not special, he's not young by far, and he's certainly not a gentleman. He's Reaver."

"Oh well that's- Reaver?!" Patty's jaw dropped. "You are being courted by _Reaver_?! Avo's gift to womankind?! How do you get so lucky?!"

"Look, will you stop jumping to conclusions?" Sparrow said, hands on her hips. "He's not courting me. He's just being annoying and trying to get me to sleep with him."

"Then why not sleep with him? Won't do you any harm. As a matter of fact, you will enjoy it! Reaver is a skilled lover. It doesn't even matter if you're a virgin, he still makes it good!" Patty spoke as though she countlessly watched Reaver perform sex with various different girls.

Sparrow stared at the whore with her mouth open for a moment before shaking her head and flushing. "Look here, Patty," she said, pointing an accusing finger at the woman. "It _will_ do me harm. He's slept with thousands of people so . . . so. . he may give me a sexually transmitted disease! I will _not_ enjoy it because there will be nothing but selfish lust involved! I have no doubt Reaver is a skilled lover, but a man who has been with so many other people before could never be a _proper_ lover to me!"

Patty looked at Sparrow oddly. "You have very strange ideas about things. Isn't sex all about lust and pleasure?"

"No! Ugh, it's suppose to be about love! Now if you'll excuse me, I must be going now!" Sparrow pushed by the whore and started on her way back to Bloodstone Manor.

"You do not love him then?" Patty called after her, which made her halt in her step.

Sparrow turned around and opened her mouth to say 'no' but no words would come out. After a bit of just standing there, and opening and closing her mouth awkwardly, she shrugged in irritation and jogged back to the Manor, Chance at her heels.

When Sparrow returned she pushed the large wooden door open and entered, stopping for a moment to catch her breath. As soon as Reaver's slick voice reached her ears an all-too-familiar weird feeling began to take over her body once again and she froze.

"There you are, my dear!" Reaver walked towards her from the direction of his study. "I was wondering what had happened to you-"

"I gotta get some air!" Sparrow quickly said, not looking at him and running up the stairs to her bedroom.

"But you were just outside. . ." Reaver said, furrowing his brow. He looked down at Chance who merely wagged his tail slowly. "Your mistress is acting a little odd. Perhaps she isn't well?"

Chance said nothing.

Reaver shrugged and returned to his study, humming to himself.

* * *

"Keep it together, Sparrow. Keep it together!" Sparrow told her reflection in the mirror. She then sighed heavily and flopped down on her bed in dramatic despair. A knock at her door nearly made her jump out of her skin. "What? Who is it?" she asked, hugging a nearby pillow and hoping it wasn't Reaver.

"It's Marielle, Sparrow. The owner of the tavern just stopped by to deliver your pay."

"Oh." Sparrow climbed off her bed and opened her door, taking her bag of gold from Marielle. "Thanks."

Marielle curtsied and headed down the hallway to continue with her chores.

Sparrow just closed the door and went back over to her bed, sitting down on it cross-legged and pouring out her well-earned gold onto the bed so she could count it. At least she now had something that could distract her from Reaver.

When Sparrow finished counting the last piece of gold her eyes widened and she looked down at the single piece in her hand. It was the piece that said she now had enough money to buy Fairfax Castle. The piece that said she could now leave Bloodstone and the Manor. The piece that said she could leave Reaver behind and probably never see him again.

Overcome with sudden unexpected emotion Sparrow began to cry which soon turned into sobbing. The problem was, she didn't know whether she was crying because she was so happy and relieved that she could finally leave the manor, or because the thought of leaving and never seeing Reaver again made her heart ache greater then any physical pain she had ever felt before.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry about the delay. I have been preparing for my wedding so I have had very little free time.**

**Anyways, this has always been one of my favourite chapters :) Hope you enjoyed it.**


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